Coming Home 8 of 12 in a series
by mccoylover
Summary: This one picks up shortly after the proposal in For Better or For Worse. Danielle & Sam make plans for the wedding and Jack deals with the questions Vanessa Galiano raised when Brooke returns from her visit with Nadia Brezin.
1. Chapter 1

"Jack!"

McCoy continued across the crosswalk towards the courthouse, ignoring the impatient voice behind him. As his pace quickened, so did the sound of Danielle Melnick's high heels.

"Come on Jack, slow down," Melnick hissed, just steps behind him. "These are new heels and my feet are killing me. Not to mention if I break a heel because I had to chase you down Centre Street like a process server just to..."

The district attorney sighed heavily. Realizing it would be futile to try to avoid his old friend indefinitely, McCoy abruptly stopped.

"Listen, Danielle. If...," he began, as he turned.

Melnick walked into her friend's chest, his sudden stop giving her no time to falter.

"Danielle, are you all right?"

Melnick shook his hands off of her shoulders and ignored the inviting smell of musk that radiated from McCoy; instead focusing focusing on the annoyance she felt.

"It would serve you right if I said 'no' and sued you for negligence," she shot back. "I've been trying to reach you for almost two weeks. You won't return my calls…I've left so many messages that your administrative assistant and I aren't just on a first name basis; I even know the names of all her grandchildren!"

"Don't be so dramatic, Danielle."

"Jasper, Jacob, and Joanie."

McCoy stared at Melnick blindly.

"Those are the names of Linda's grandchildren," Melnick said proudly. "My God Jack, you've worked in the same office with the woman for more years! If you took the time to look on her desk when you say 'goodmorning' to her, you'd see the frame with their names printed under their pictures. If you paid less attention to leggy troublemakers like Vanessa Galiano, you'd notcie..."

"This is exactly the conversation I was trying to avoid," McCoy interjected gruffly, as he turned and strode towards the courthouse.

"You can avoid having it with me, but you can't avoid having it with your fiancée," Melnick countered as she stayed at his heels. "Her flight should be circling Kennedy just about now."

McCoy stopped again and whirled around.

"You've talked to Brooke," he said incredulously.

Melnick shook her head.

"Not me. Sam called her after the dinner to tell her..."

"Oh God Danielle, why the hell can't everyone just leave it alone? Nothing happened between me and Vanessa. Not that that's in any way, shape, or form any of Sam's business."

"Now wait a minute, counselor," Melnick said as she reached for his arm. "Contrary to popular myth: The world does _not_ revolve around your sex life. Sam called Brooke to tell her _our_ news. When he asked her to bring him his mother's ring, she agreed on the condition that he call her and let her know what I said..."

"News…"McCoy looked down at ring on Melick's finger in disbelief. "Sam proposed and you accepted? When? Why didn't you tell me?"

Melnick stood, hands on hips, and gave him a withering stare. McCoy lowered his eyes in embarrassment and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

"I apologize, Danielle," the DA said contritely. "Congratulations. Any chance you'd let this self absorbed SOB kiss the bride," he said as he sheepishly raised his eyes.

"I suppose twenty years of friendship should mean something," Melnick joked as McCoy moved to embrace her. "Sam proposed the night of that dinner you thought you were going to speak at…actually you have Sam to thank for me not making a beeline to where ever you went off to with Galiano. I looked for you before we left, but you were nowhere to be found."

"I set Vanessa straight about a few things and then I grabbed a taxi," McCoy said as he shifted his feet.

Even as he said the words, his mind flashed back to the kiss…the heated exchange…the heat…

"Sure you did. That's why you were in that banquet room alone with her for almost a half an hour."

"Jesus Danielle! For a woman that's spent half her life defending the Bill of Rights you seem to have a selective memory… ever hear of a right to privacy," McCoy sputtered in disbelief, as he shook his head. "Are you having me followed? When I became DA did you hire spies to..."

McCoy's defensiveness was like a red flag to his friend of so many years. Melnick's eyes narrowed, as she studied him with growing suspicion.

"Oh Jack," she said in a quiet gasp, "no. How you could … how could you be such an idiot? What are you going to tell Brooke?"

"I _wasn't_," McCoy snapped, looking passed Melnick towards the traffic,"and I resent the fact you'd even think I'd..."

"Come on Jack. When you go Shakespeare on me…"

"Shakespeare?"

"Yeah," Melnick said drily."You may not be a lady, but you're definitely protesting too much."

McCoy opened his mouth to make a scathing retort and stopped. Melnick knew him too well for him to even try to banter his way around the issue.

"What kind of a man do you think I am Danielle? Do you think I forgot why Brooke went to Moscow…why Nadia Brezin even contacted her? I didn't sleep with Vanessa or anyone else."

Melnick studied the unmistakably guilty expression on her friends' face, as she would have the face of a hostile witness on the stand.

"You realize the only way I could know about the banquet room is that someone saw you, right? Maybe you didn't sleep with her, but_ something_ is going on with you, Jack. Now, are you going to tell me what it is so maybe I can help you work it through before you go home tonight and have to explain why you look as guilty as Mickey Scott to your fiancée?"


	2. Chapter 2

By the time he arrived at the loft moonlight had replaced sunlight. After carefully depositing his hat, jacket, and satchel on the sofa, McCoy switched the lamp that rested at the center of the end table on. Glancing around the living area, he could see Malinowski had taken the time to review the mail on the desk and to begin to unpack before she had gone to bed.

He picked up the handwritten note that sat on top of a gift box at the center of the coffee table.

_Waited for you as long as I could. Big time jet lag sent me to bed at 9:30. Open your present. Wake me when you come to bed. More goodies await you. __I missed you more than words can say._

With a smile McCoy quietly tore open the gold colored paper that had the letters _GUM_ embossed on it. When he lifted the lid of the box, he found the box contained a pair of leather gloves. Running his fingers over them, McCoy found the dark leather felt as good as it looked.

As he returned the box to the coffee table, McCoy caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window and groaned remembering Melnick's words. She was right. One look at him and Malinowski would know something was wrong.

After giving his old friend the bum's rush, McCoy had gone to his meeting with Judge Rivera. Afterwards, he'd gone back to the office and stayed there until his desk and office were spotless. Not only was his 'in' tray completely empty for the first time he could remember, but the items from his old office were out of the boxes, free of dust, and displayed. It wasn't until Cutter had stuck his head in to say 'goodnight' that McCoy realized how late it was.

"Hi," whispered a familiar voice from behind him, as a pair of arms snaked around his neck.

McCoy looked up and reached for Malinowski as she bent down to kiss him.

"That must have been some meeting. Do you realize it's nearly eleven?"

"The gloves are perfect," he said deciding no answer was better than a lie."I never did replace the pair I left on the subway last month. How was the flight?"

"Long and boring."

"I'm surprised you didn't use the time to decide where to aim your next arrow."

Malinowski's eyes widened as she looked at him with confusion.

"I understand you gave Sam the ring he gave Danielle when he proposed," McCoy explained thoughtfully. "If I asked either of my former wives for the same favor, I know at least one of them would tell me to check the property settlement and probably slap an harrassment suit on me for even asking."

"It wasn't a big deal,"she said with a smile, as she reached for his hand. "I knew it was just a matter of time before he asked for his mother's ring. We may not be together anymore, but I can still read Sam pretty well. Danielle makes him happy. I just hope she makes him as happy as you make me. I wanted to tell you, but if Danielle had lost her mind and said 'no' I thought it might make things..."

"I think you just like playing Cupid," McCoy retorted as he squeezed her hand.

Malinowski ran a hand through her tousled mane as she curled up beside him on the sofa. As the couple exchanged information about goings on since they had been apart, Malinowski rested her head against her lovers chest. Although her body was still adjusting to being back on New York time, the more she listened, the more Malinowski was sure she sensed something was amiss.

When she thought about the events that had taken place just prior to her trip to Moscow, only one thing came to mind that she thought might explain the strangeness of her lover's mood.

"…until Mike learns the difference between zealousness and recklessness, I'm going to have keep close tabs on..."

"Jack beating around the bush was never your style," she interjected as she turned to scan his face."Something is on your mind and it's not the way Mike Cutter tried to take a short cut around the eighth amendment. I thought something was wrong when I called you with my arrival time last night. If I overstepped with Becky, I'm sorry. I know you said to leave it alone, but I just couldn't..."

McCoy shook his head, immediately recalling his warning to her about trying to smooth over the lastest disagreement that had arisen between himself and his only child.

"Becky? You think ...No. You didn't overstep. I appreciate you wanting to help. It was a relief to get her call. I said what I did to you because I honestly didn't think she'd want to hear what you had to say and I didn't want to see you disappointed."

"So she _did_ call while I was gone?"

"Yes. In fact, we're going to meet half way at the end of the month after she finishes some big job she just started. I wouldn't say it's the perfect father/daughter relationship, but it's a start. She still feels a lot of guilt about what happened to you."

Malinowski nodded as she held his face in her hands, her eyes still holding a look of uncertainty.

"So do you, don't you, Jack?"

"Right now, I just feel guilty about having you out of bed when you're obviously dead on your feet," he responded as he moved to scoop her into his arms before standing. "It's late. We can finish catching up on the morning."

"Jack, I know there's something on your mind besides..."

Before she could continue to protest, McCoy placed a finger over her lips as he moved towards the bed. He lowered her onto the mattress and replaced his finger with his lips while his hands undid the belt of her robe. As his hands slipped under the satin, McCoy nuzzled her neck with his nose. He smiled inwardly, as he breathed in the familiar smell of her perfume, mixed with her essence.

As his hands explored the softness of her breasts, he pushed aside his doubts as easily as he pushed the robe over her shoulders. He could feel her hands first run through the locks that were more salt than pepper. Then she discreetly ran her hands down his back and around to where his belts buckle inadvertently pressed against her pelvic bone.

Kissing away his self-conscious apology, Malinowski undid his jeans.

"No worry's, my love," she whispered as she watched him discard the jeans along with his shoes and socks. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one eager for a reunion tonight."

"You're sure you're not too tired," he asked as his shirt joined the rest of his clothes on the floor.

Malinowski smiled as she eyed the stiffness between his legs.

"Not as tired as I expect I'll be," she replied as he embraced her once more."I've been in Moscow where it's twenty degrees. I still get a chill when I think about how cold my hotel room was. You know, body warmth is especially important in Russia."

"Is it," he asked, as his body responded to the feel of her body seductively rubbing against his."You seem to be awfully warm already."

"That's the effect you have on me counselor," she murmured as she continued to tease him.

McCoy closed his eyes as a low grunt escaped from his lips. Her breasts continued to caress his chest, abruptly slipping away from him as her reached for them, while her hips moved against him as her out lips pressed against his cock; stroking him and daring him to penetrate her wetness.

"Enjoying yourself, are you," he asked with amusement as he grabbed her backside and held to her to him.

"I usually do when I'm in bed with you…," she said with a knowing grin just as he slipped a set of fingers inside her.

She gasped suddenly and moaned as her eyes closed and her body moved against his touch.

"Pr…predictable," she managed to whisper before she pulled his head downwards.

As they exchanged ravenous kisses, a wave of ecstasy washed over Malinowski. As her body trembled and withered against him, McCoy opened her legs wider and slipped himself inside her.

"Are you saying you think I'm out of surprises," she heard his husky voice murmur as he thrust deeply, slowly against the contractions she could no longer control.

"No," she responded as her back arched and she came again; hard enough to make her lover pause as he relished the feel of her body's spent state.

"No," she whispered minutes later as she lay back, McCoy still pressed against her, still part of her."Never out of surprises. You just know, Jack. You just know how to give me what I want… when I want it. Never any doubt…never any surprise about that… predictable. Every time."

McCoy moved the hair from her eyes and smiled down at her. He could see the pure joy she felt in the her loving gaze.

Damn Vanessa and her dime store analysis of him and his motives for marrying again.

"I love you," he whispered as he began his loving her again.

"I love you too," she replied softly as she wrapped her arms and legs around him before pushing against him to roll them over."Let me show you how much."

McCoy lay back and watched her face as she began to ride him; at first slowly, methodically, soon more urgently. He reached for her breasts that bobbed in gentle time with their hips, until he brought them to his lips.

"I love you," she whispered again, her back arching as he bit down on a nipple.

McCoy roughly pulled her to him as he turned them back over and his thrusts coming harder and faster.

Moaning with pleasure as his chest heaved; McCoy came as he thrust into her like a dagger into a peach. He held her close and closed his eyes. The only things he could ear were the sounds of her breath and her racing heart.

When it was over, he rolled on his side and continued to hold her, still listening to the sound of her heart as it gradually grew fainter.

He knew he'd been a fool. A selfish, arrogant, downright cowardly fool to have any doubts about marrying her…committing to her…

"I'll marry you, if you'll still have me," he said softly as he opened his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

_I'll marry you, if you'll still have me…._

Malinowski thoughtfully turned the remark over in her mind for what seemed like the thousandth time, as she went through the pile that was stacked in the 'in' tray on her desk.

At first, she wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly. She wasn't sure until she looked in his eyes; eyes that flickered with the tenderness that usually followed their lovemaking…eyes that seemed to have widened in what? In surprise?

"Damnit Jack, I didn't know there was any doubt…,"she muttered as she let the file drop from her hands and wearily rubbing her eyes.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Jake Cohen said with an amused smirk, as he entered her office."Shouldn't you be sleeping off the jet lag before trying to handle matters of law and order, life and death, right and..."

"_Enough_," Malinowski commanded as she reached into a desk drawer and tossed a wrapped box towards her former assistant. "Stop it or I'll take your present back to Russia."

"With or without love," Cohen deadpanned as he caught the package.

"Listen, Sean. I've been gone two weeks, plus the time I was gone with that whole mess in Canada. I'm not about to make Michael question his generosity or his decision to give me the EADA spot."

Cohen nodded as he looked curiously at the package and then back at Malinowski.

"Should I open it now or wait?"

"Your choice. I know you and your significant other are mad about chess, so I brought you a hand carved miniature set you two can take on those romantic weekend getaways. You know, something to do in front of the fireplace besides what you_ normally_ do in front the fireplace," she said smugly, while ignoring his outstretched tongue."I also picked up another reproduction for your Faberage egg collection. Now am I a good friend or what?"

"If you were a _good_ friend, you'd have found away to pack one of those hot Russians in the furry hats into your suitcase for me," he said playfully."But, you did remember me, so I guess I can't complain…too much."

"Just like a man…never satisfied with what he has. When I left you _had_ a man, so I saw no reason to bring you another one."

"Yeah, well, that was then and this is now," Cohen said with a shrug."I'm back on the market."

"Aw damn, Jake. What happened?"

"I won't bore you with the details," he said as he took a seat on the edge of the desk."Let's just say I found out Will wasn't the man I thought he was. "

"An affair," she asked not bothering to hide her disgust. When Cohen nodded she added,"Bastard. Lousy bastard politician. You know Jake; we just put way that hit man from the Estrada crime family. I can offer the guy early parole if he's willing to take out that son of a bitch..."

Cohen smiled weakly at his friend's attempt to cheer him up. Patting her hand, he shook his head.

"As much fun as that would be, I think we need to keep the psycho-killer types behind bars and not put them back out on the street to do our dirty work for us. But thanks Brooke. It means a lot to me that you'd offer."

"You know I'd do it too," she said with seriousness that made him laugh."Now that I'm an EADA I can do that kind of stuff, so just say the word. Especially with a politician that probably lied to the voters, the same way he lied to you."

"You know, I hate to bring this up, but aren't you forgetting something? Before we murder all the politicians, remember _Jack_ is one of those hated political types now."

"Trivial detail," she shot back more sharply than she intended.

Cohen raised an eyebrow and waited. Finally, Malinowski sighed and rested her chin in her hands.

"I'd tell you if I knew, Jake. Right now, it's just a feeling.'

"And what is 'it'?"

"It's a feeling that something's going on with Jack," she admitted thoughtfully.

"I thought you two were back on track before you went away. I mean, that whole waterfall thing wasn't just thoughtful. Doing it in Central Park in broad daylight is one of the most erotic things I've heard of in a longtime. Until you told me, I never realized what exhibitionists you two are."

Malinowski reached out with one hand and smacked his forearm, as the other hand ran through her hair.

"Knock it off or I'll bring up the taffy machine incident with that delivery guy," she warned.

Malinowski giggled, as Cohen's face turned bright red. He glared at her with annoyance at first and then, as he thought about the incident, he began to laugh as well.

"You know that only happened because we used too much corn syrup…," he gasped as he tried to catch his breath.

"It happened because sex and taffy pulling are a dangerous combination," she countered, slamming a palm down on the desk as she forced herself to take a long breath.

"About this Jack thing," Cohen started a few minutes later."Was it ...well … was it a performance thing? I mean, you know a rape can affect the victim's partner…"

Malinowski shook her head as she wiped her eyes.

"Just the opposite. Last night he was more aggressive, even more passionate than he was than day in the park," she said automatically lowering her voice and glancing to be sure her office door was firmly closed."I mean, Jack is usually all about foreplay, which is great. But last night he got right to the main event. Very intense and that is _no_ complaint. In fact..."

"Enough," Cohen said holding up a hand."I've got it or should I say I _haven't_ got it, for the last two weeks."

"Sorry," Malinowski said as her face brightened."The point is, it's not a sex thing. But he's preoccupied with something."

"Maybe a case? You know, we're supposed to be sending Manhattan the Vito Morelli case. Five hundred yard rule and all that. Maybe that's what's bothering him. It's going to be a very high profile case and..."

"I don't think so. I mean, he was at the office until almost midnight, but then he didn't want to talk about it. Nothing about the office. Except some nonsense about Cutter being overzealous, but he just used that to avoid…"

"To avoid?"

"To avoid talking about what's really bothering him," she said more to herself than to Cohen.

"Brooke, is it a case of cold feet? I mean, this will be the guy's third marriage..."

"No," she said as she shook her head. "No, in fact he asked me again, last night…he said he'd marry me if I'd still have him. We hadn't been fighting. He said it right after we made love. Just out of the blue…"

Cohen bit his lip as he pondered her words, a natural explanation presenting itself, much to his regret.

"It sounds like guilt to me, Brooke,"he said without a trace of his previous humor.

Malinowski nodded.

"I know. The question is how do I get him to tell me what he has to feel guilty about?"

Cohen gave her a sheepish look as he began to smile.

"Think about it. What did you do that time when Sam was planning your surprise birthday party and you thought he was hiding some deep dark secret from you," he asked, as he ran a finger slowly across his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Malinowski returned from Islip; Saturday morning was well on its way to turning into Saturday evening. She knew McCoy was hosting the annual summit for the DA's of the five neighboring countries. An event that had ended at five o'clock. Given it would probably take him another hour to make enough polite noises to get out of Rockefeller Center, she knew she easily had an hour and a half to find everything she needed.

Dressing the part was easy. While she'd been in Moscow her new friends had taken her to Russia's version of _Victoria's Secret_. It was an odd, but fun filled trip. Odd given the fact every woman in her group was not only the victim of rape, but forced prostitution. Nadia Brezin had explained to her the importance many of the women found in reclaiming the sexuality. Part of the reclamation came with rediscovering their own individual idea of what made them desirable.

Malinowski had found a creme colored merry widow with black lace trim and matching thong that was sexy yet conservative, at least by American standards. She knew she had a pair of black fishnet stockings in her lingerie drawer she'd bought to go with an outfit for a costume party back in October.

Finding a makeshift basin to use took more time. After tearing apart every cabinet in the kitchen, she finally settled on a deep oval serving bowl that would serve her purpose.

Almost everything else she needed was in the bathroom. The linen closet held several white face towels and she still had a plastic smock that she used when she colored her hair between salon appointments. The shaving crème she had picked up on her way from the train station.

The only thing left to find was the blade.

She remembered her ex-husband giving it to her during one of the settlement meetings. He had found it in the box of clothing she'd given him when he returned to New York. Actually, it was more than a blade. It was a shaving kit that had belonged to her father. A family heirloom bought by her grandmother for her grandfather as a wedding present.

As she pulled out the sparkling silver instruments, she made a mental note to give them to McCoy after they had served her purpose. To give them to him not as a wedding gift as she had done with her former husband... but as a sign of good faith… faith she had that whatever problem that was on his mind was fixable.

The set still looked brand new, even though it was nearly a hundred years old. But the set was from Slovakia…the old country… a place where craftsmanship was not a lost art. The set was made to stand the test of time just as Malinowski believed, the love between herself and Jack McCoy would, as well.

"Brooke? What's going on," McCoy asked an hour later.

He moved into the candle lit room and stared at his fiancée, taking in her appearance as she handled him a scotch on the rocks.

"I want to share something with you," she said as she motioned for him to sit on the barstool beside her."I was going through some boxes and I came across the shaving kit my grandmother gave my grandfather. It reminded me of a fantasy I have," she replied as she slipped this suit jacket off and tossed the already undone tie towards to sofa.

"Another fantasy," he said with amusement."I thought reality at least matched fantasy, last night."

"Come on Jack," she countered with a pout and she ran her hands over his bare chest."I bet you've never had anyone give you a close shave before. Let me be the first."

McCoy took a long pull from his drink before setting it on the table and dutifully nodding. Still feeling the weigh of a fresh heap of guilt after the night before, he saw the shave as a way to buy time. It was a way to avoid the questions he knew she wanted to ask him.

_This is crazy,_ he told himself as she carefully placed a warm towel over his face_. I love Brooke, I proposed to Brooke and I'm going to marry Brooke…Vanessa is playing games…she always did enjoy keeping me off balance...this time she's full of crap…I proposed months before the kidnapping…so what if Brooke had already shot Samantha Weaver? I knew I wanted her long before…No, I loved her. That first night… when we just held each other, I knew…_

"Jack? Are you still with me," she asked as she removed the towel and handed him the drink she had refilled.

McCoy smiled at her as the sound system began playing one of his favorite jazz instrumentalists DVD's.

"I wondered what I did with that."

"It was in the case with Sinatra's greatest hits,"she explained as she layed the smock over his chest and shoulders."Now, why don't you finish that before I put the creme on your face?"

Malinowski watched as he downed his second scotch in a half an hour. She shrugged off her own guilt at encouraging a habit they were both working on giving up. She knew it was wrong of her to deliberately get him drunk. But she also knew if she wanted to get passed his stubborn streak, that streak that made him want to carry his burdens alone, desperate measures were needed.

"How did things go in Islip," he asked as he set down the empty glass.

"Well. All the loose ends are tied and Cohen sends you his best," she said as she straddled him to carefully apply the warm, thick creme to his face and throat.

As the brush moved over his chin and down his neck, he could feel his shoulders relax, as his lower region responded to the seductive strokes of the brush.

"It feels good, doesn't it Jack," she whispered softly, as his hands reached for the hooks on the front of the merry widow. "Not yet. Think about it. Topless shaving might sound like fun, but one slip of the blade and it could be tragic."

McCoy chuckled along with her and let his hands fall to her waist. He wasn't sure if it was the liquor or the warmth of shaving creme or just simply the proximity of himself to his lover, but McCoy could feel himself beginning to let go.

"It feels wonderful. Maybe we should think about getting you a station at the shop around the corner."

"I only do this for a select clientele," she said with amusement, as she reached for the blade."So tell me, how did things go here, in Manhattan?"

"Humm, you know how much I hate these things. All talk and no follow through," he murmured as he felt the blade begin to run over his cheek.

"No. I mean in Manhattan while I was gone."

"Cases, continuances, and all of the usual crap," he said absentmindedly.

"Really? Nothing in particular pops out at you?"

McCoy could hear the ominous change in her intonation; her voice going from that of playful seductress to probing prosecutor. He knew better than to let his body give him away. He willed himself not to tense up, as he opened his eyes.

_What the hell?...What was I thinking,_ McCoy asked himself as he stared at the machete like blade in his fiancées hand. The gleam of the shiny silver blade made him realize the vunerablity of the position he'd allowed himself to be put in.

Logically, he knew Malinowski would never slit his throat.

She was an intelligent, rational being who loved him. But, she was also a woman. A woman who, judging from the tone of her voice, had somehow found out more about what had went on in Manhattan while she was away than she had let on.

"You realize that blade is long enough to be considered a concealed weapon on the street?"

Malinowski nodded as she dripped the knife into the basin, carefully wiping off the excess creme with a damp washcloth. As McCoy moved to step down, her free hand pushed him back down.

Hard.

"Brooke, I can explain and I can do it much better without a knife at my throat," he snapped.

"Jack, I don't want an explanation. I want the truth," she said as she ran the blade over his jugular vein."_All_ of it. Now."

McCoy knew better than to even try to get her to tell him where she'd gotten her information. She had spent the day at the office, with Cohen…

_How would Jake know about Vanessa…not that there's anything to know…not anything worth this…_

"You know I don't react well to threats, Brooke."

Malinowski met his stubborn gaze with one of her own.

"Then don't put me in a position to have to make them," she countered, setting the blade on the table."If you don't have enough trust…enough respect for me…to tell me the truth we really don't have very much, do we Jack?"

"The truth is I let myself be manipulated by Vanessa," he said as he pulled the plastic smock off and stood.

"How?"

"I never would have been alone with her if I hadn't bought her story about needing a last minute speaker at that damned banquet. Danielle will back me up if I need a character witness," he added sarcastically.

Malinowski turned away from him to pick up her robe off of the sofa.

_I never would have been alone with her_, she wordlessly said to herself. _Alone? He was alone with that bitch in heat Galiano…._

As she covered herself she closed her eyes and willed herself to not tip her hand until she heard it all. From the way he was talking, Malinowski knew McCoy thought she knew much more than she actually did.

When his hand met her shoulder, she whirled around and met his gaze with deceivingly dry eyes.

"What happened when you were alone with her Jack," she demanded, the knot on her stomach telling her she already knew what his answer would be, but knowing she had to hear it from him.

"I didn't sleep with her," he shouted defensively. "I don't plan to sleep with her..."

"But you wanted to, didn't you," she shouted back, as she stormed up to him. "Damn you Jack. You want her but you think you're going to play the martyr and marry me out of... what? Guilt? Obligation? You arrogant, egoistical son of a..."

"I have only one thing to say to that," he countered with the coolness of a card player who has an unbeatable hand. "Mike Logan."

The basin bowl went flying with the detectives name still ringing in her ears and McCoy dropped to the ground; the bowl to shattering against the wall behind him.

"Gee Jack, when did I have time to have _an affair_ with Logan? Before or after I was kidnapped and raped? If it wasn't for Logan I'd be dead. I never lied to you about Mike Logan. By omission or any other way. I told you why I met him at the _Traven on the Green _the last time I..."

"You never told me about the day he found you,"McCoy responded schrewdly."I've read enough police reports to know when something is missing. Van Buren pulled Logan's discipline statements from the files that went to my office. Something happened. Something that warranted him getting suspended."

"Hello counselor, I was rushed to the hospital for a reason," she snapped back, unwilling to be distracted by McCoy's insinuations. She knew all that had transpired with Logan was a well meaning, if ill thought out, kiss."Even if you're right, it doesn't matter because_ I_ never slept with Mike. _You_ had an affair with this bitch and she wants you back. Do you not get that?"

"She's not a bitch."

"_What_," she gasped, as angry tears found their way down her cheeks."That's your counter argument? ' She's not a bitch?' That woman tries to seduce you not once but _twice_, knowing damn well we're engaged and you want to _defend_ her?"

"I wasn't defending her. I just meant this is on me, not Vanessa," he said as he picked up his shirt and the empty glass. "I made a commitment to you and I should have been smarter about … "

"You made a commitment,"she asked as she impatiently wiped the tears from her face and looked into his eyes."Is that what this is about Jack? You forfilling your obilgations?"

"No," he said just a bit too fast, as he unsuccessfully reached for her."Listen. Let's not do this. I love you, that hasn't changed. What happened or didn't happen..."

"I love you too," Malinowski interjected, her voice almost inaudible as her throat tightened, while she curled up in the corner of the sofa."I loved you enough to break my commitment to Sam. I loved you enough to give up my home…the life that I built…I love you Jack, but not enough to give up my self respect. I won't be the woman that you come home to when you'd rather be somewhere else."

"Brooke, that's not..."

"The hell it's not," she replied with unexpected finality, as she scooped his key ring off the coffee table and tossed it to him."Get out. Get out and don't come back until you know what you really want. Go and maybe, if you decide to come back, I'll still be here."


	5. Chapter 5

McCoy adjusted his glasses as he reread the document he was holding, before swore loudly enough that his administrative assistant jumped. The startled woman gave him a concerned look and the DA responded by a demanding to know where ADA Rubirosa had returned from arraignments.

By the time Connie Rubirosa closed the office door behind her, McCoy was pacing. Tossing his glasses on the desk he paused long enough to hand her the file he had been holding.

"Connie what's going on with this? The Morelli case should have been transferred to us by the end of last week."

"Jack, it's not my fault. The Suffolk county DA's office won't let it go."

"They won't let it go," McCoy said impatiently. "I give them whatever Esparza affiliates we pick up in New York county and the Suffolk county DA does the same with the Massucci's."

Rubirosa shrugged her shoulders, as she shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't know what to tell you."

"Have you talked to the DA running the case?"

"Yeah. I have," she said looking at the floor to avoid his quizzical gaze. "Brooke told me herself if we wanted to pursue this we'd all have to wait and see what a judge says. Period. End of story."

Rubirosa could see McCoy's jaw tighten as he took the file from her and picked up the receiver from its cradle.

Up until that morning, the only sign that the two prosecutors were at odds had been the absence of the picture that had sat in the center of his desk. The few times Rubirosa had made a friendly effort to find out what happened, her former mentor had politely but firmly, brushed her off. Listening to his end of his conversation with the Suffolk county DA's office, Rubirosa knew whatever had happened, McCoy wasn't about to let it interfere in the turf war he was having with thier sister county.

"…well, tell her to _make_ herself available," McCoy snapped into the receiver."Tell her the New York County District Attorney expects the same courtesy from a subordinate that he'd get if he called any DA's office…Fine. If she's in court, then put me through to Michael Jackowicz himself."

Rubirosa quietly sat across from him and listened as the exchange became more heated between the two DA's. Rubirosa could tell McCoy was getting nowhere fast with his counterpart and she suspected she knew the venue where two weeks of bottled up frustration was going to explode.

"… I respect your loyalty to your Executive Michael, but that doesn't preclude the fact this agreement benefits both of our offices… Did she?"

Rubirosa paled as a look came over her superior's face that suggested he had not only lost battle, but the war as well.

"Then I guess I'll see you in court,"McCoy resisted the urge to slam the receiver down. As an alternate, he opened his bottom drawer.

"Jack, it's only three..."

"I take that to mean you won't be joining me," McCoy responded as he filled a glass."Apparently the statistical data shows that for every ten cases Suffolk county gives us, we return the favor six point five times."

"So they're keeping the case."

"Keeping it and every other one they get until they have a good faith guarantee the trend will change. First they start running the schools on data, now we're supposed run the criminal justice system the same way," he asked shortly, as he made a mock salute towards the window."Score one for the EADA for Suffolk County."

"Jack, we still have a chance in court. I've reviewed the case and..."

"We have more than a chance. Let me take a closer look at the file. How long before we go to court on this?"

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

"You're sure you don't want me to second chair for you since Taz is out with the flu?"

Malinowski shook her head as she finished folding the blanket and discreetly slipped a bed pillow behind it.

"I'm ready for whatever Connie throws at us," she said as she sat on the sofa that had become her bed over the course of the past few weeks."She's good, but there are only so many way she can make a case to have the case reassigned to New York county."

After throwing her lover out of the loft, coming back to Manhattan every night seemed not only inconvenient, but unnecessarily painful. It didn't take long for Malinowski to adjust her routine so that only the night custodian had any idea how often the new EADA was making her office a second home.

"Brooke, when's the last time you've been home?"

"Home? Do you mean to my house…no wait…I don't _have_ a house. Do you mean to the loft? The loft there's no way in hell I'm going to be able to hold onto on my own when the lease runs out in three months?"

"You know it's not going to come down to that,"Cohen said gently."You two belong together. You're both just too stubborn for either of you to make the first move. Maybe, if you'd return Jack's calls or..."

Malinowski gave him a glare as she started to tuck her blouse into the waistband of her skirt.

"Maybe, if you have court in a half hour you should find your second chair and ..."

"Leslie is more than capable of starting jury selection on her own. Come on Brooke, you can't live at the office forever," he said as he joined her on the sofa."At least agree to stay in my guest room until you two figure out what you're doing."

"I thought I knew what I was doing. I _thought_ I was getting married. I thought I'd found ...," she swore softly as her voice faltered, while moving towards her desk.

"Brooke, just because he's got a case of cold feet doesn't mean..."

"It's not just cold feet and I can't think about what it means right now," she retorted as she impatiently used a tissue to dab at her eyes."Right now, I need to focus on keeping the Morelli case in this county."

"You_ mean_ you have to focus on sticking it to Jack."

Malinowski raised an eyebrow as she shot him an evil grin.

"That's just an added bonus."

Cohen sighed as the door opened and Malinowski signed for the certified court document. He watched as she reached for the letter opener and soon after leaned on the edge of her desk as if she'd had the wind knocked out of her.

"What?"

"Jack," she whispered as she handed him the document."He's replacing Connie in the Morelli case."

Before Cohen could respond, someone lightly tapped on the door before joining the pair. Both Cohen and Malinowski broke into grins as Sam Prescott reached for Cohen's outstretched hand before embracing his ex-wife.

"Sam! Congratulations," Malinowski said as she gave him a peak on the cheek."How are the wedding plans coming? I've been meaning to call you, I've just been swamped here and..."

"I figured as much. When you didn't RSVP, I decided I'd drop by and invite you to the wedding personally."

"Sam, shouldn't you be getting fitted for your tux or getting ready for the bachelor party," Cohen interjected."It's not like you have..."

Prescott held up a hand as he removed an envelope from the pocket of his suit jacket.

"Just came from the taylor and the tux is fine. As for the bachelor party, you're my best man Jake. You're the one doin' the real work on that. All I have to do is show up, drink up, and be damn sure to keep my pants up," Prescott said as he and Cohen exchanged chuckles while he handed his ex-wife the pastel envelope."How long before you have to go over to the courthouse, Mal? Any chance I could have a moment or two?"

"I'm not due over there for another hour."

"Not the case for myself, I'm afraid," Cohen said taking the hint, as the two men shook hands again."Sam, I'll see you tonight. Brooke, it's you turn to buy lunch. _The Barrister_ at one?"

Malinowski nodded as she thoughtfully scanned the elegant card in her hand.

"Jake told me tommorrow's the big day. Danielle's a smart lady. You never know what can happen if you wait too long…"

"Actually, I'm the one that jumped on the early date. When we found out the rabbi_ and_ the minister both had a cancellation on the same Saturday, I took it as a sign the God's were smilin' on this union. Figured there was no sense in waitin' around."

Malinowski nodded as the pair sat on the sofa. Refusing her offer of coffee, Prescott leaned back against the wool blanket, frowning ever so slightly.

"It is a sign.I know Danielle will make you very happy," she said as she squeezed his hand."I knew she'd love that ring."

"Just like you said she would. You two are so much alike….yet such different women. You know, she insisted on wearing it. She wouldn't let me buy her a proper ring, just a weddin' band for the ceremony. Just like you."

"We both know quality when we see it," she countered with a smile."Now, about the wedding..."

"Listen, before you say anything, I think you should know Jack will be there. He confirmed with Danielle earlier in the week. As much as I'd like you to be there, I'd understand if..."

"Wait a minute," she countered as she processed his words."Wait. _You_ know Jack and I aren't together right now? Danielle?"

Prescott shook his head as he met her puzzled gaze.

"Nope. I mean, night before last Jack did finally get around to tellin' her… and I'll have you know Danilee raised hell when she heard … but I actually heard about it first from Abbie Carmichael."

"Abbie?"

"Yeah.When I mentioned I hadn't heard from either of you about the wedding, she told me Connie Rubirosa had mentioned to her that you and Jack weren't together when Abbie met her for lunch yesterday," Prescott explained."Guess Connie caught him sleeping in his office several nights in a row and put it together."

"Well,"Malinowski said with a weak smile."I guess I should be happy you haven't said 'I told you so' yet."

"You know me better than that, Mal,"Prescott said as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "I'd never rub you nose in somthin' that is causin' you pain. But I have to ask you if you really want to let this nonsense tear you two apart?"

"Thing? You mean you not only know we broke up, but you know _why_,"she said incredulously."How in the hell do you know..."

"Abbie was at that dinner that the Galiano woman was struttin' her stuff at. Seems Abbie saw Jack and Vanessa head down the hallway about the time Abbie wanted to try and talk to Jack about a case. Anyway, she waited around…when they finally came out…well; it was obvious Jack was in no mood to talk."

"So you saw them…him... that night? He says he didn't sleep with her, Sam. Do you believe that?"

Prescott grudgingly nodded. He had been at Melnick's apartment the night McCoy had come by to confirm he'd be attending the ceremony. Although Prescott had refused the mans handshake and spent the remainder of McCoy's visit smoking his pipe on the terrace, after McCoy left, Melnick had told him everything.

_"So the man's not a womanizing cheat, he's just a stupid bastard that can't figure out whether he loves her or pity's her? Either way, he doesn't deserve her,"_ had been his terse response after Melnick brought him up to date.

"I believe it,' he said with a sigh."When I saw them last, that Galiano woman was pulling out all the stops and McCoy looked like he was ready to take her over his knee. But what I believe doesn't matter, does it?"

"I trust you Sam. I trust your judgment a whole lot more than I trust my own right now."

"If that's how you feel, then I say take it slow. When I called you in Moscow, you sounded more like yourself than you have in months. You need to hold on to that, to just bein' yourself again. It hasn't been that long since the rape. You can't let all the progress you've made disappear just because that man is bein' a horse's backside. Although, I must say it sounds like you held your own with him," Prescott said with a chuckle."When Danielle asked me if you'd ever attacked me with a knife, I figured Jack had gotten the old close shave treatment."

Malinowski laughed as well, as she tapped the invitation thoughtfully against her fingers.

"If only the Jack had just been as bad at keeping secrets as you are… no surprise party this time…although I guess I did get one hell of a surprise, didn't I?"

"Damn it Mal, you know I hate bein' put in this position; the position defendin' Jack McCoy. But, since I am in this position, I've got to tell you I think he loves you. Hell, if I were in his shoes, I feel guilty as hell too. Not that that excuses this nonsense with this Galiano woman, but I'd bet that's all it is, just nonsense," he said earnestly before standing. "Look, I've gotta scoot. I still need to run by the house before I head back to Manhattan. "

"Well, it was thoughtful of you to stop by and personally invite me to the wedding. You know I wouldn't miss it for the world. Jack or no Jack, I'll be there," she replied as they walked to the door.

"Listen. The fact that you're not getting you mail… that pillow I felt under the blanket… there's no reason for you to camp out here. Danielle and I are lookin' at rentin' out the house here in town, at least for the time bein'. Right now it's empty. The spare key is where is always was if you decide you need the place. For a night , a week, whatever."

"Thanks Sam, I may take you up on your offer," she said as she gave him a quick hug. "You know, there is something else I might need some help with, but right now I need to get ready to go to the courthouse. Can I call you later today?"

Prescott winked as he caught the dangerous look in his ex-wife's eyes. He smiled not sure what she had in mind, but knowing whatever it was would more than likely give McCoy a reason to pause.

"Anytime, darlin' anytime."


	6. Chapter 6

"You're too good a prosecutor to use your office to stick it to me over real or imaged personal wrongs."

McCoy was on her heels the minute she reached the courthouse door. Without breaking stride, Malinowski continued to walk towards the elevator. It took all the self discipline she had not acknowledge the ache she felt when she saw the tall man in grey move to open the door for her. She willed herself not to reach for him or to allow herself to breath in his scent, as she coolly slipped passed him.

"Pardon me counselor," she replied as she pressed the elevator call button, "are you implying I'm delusional? That I just imaged Vito Morelli committed his crimes in my juridiction? Because if you aren't, this is neither the time nor the place to review our personal agenda."

"The only reason this case is going to a judge for a venue ruling _is_ our personal agenda," he snapped."I always thought you were a professional, Brooke..."

"Professional enough to do a cost benefit analysis before I just blindly hand cases over to New York county that originate here," she retorted smoothly, ignoring his attempt to bait her, as she he entered the empty elevator car."You know Jack, believe it or not, we actually _do_ know how to prosecute and get convictions for mobster's on this side of the bridge. It isn't only New York County prosecutors that know how to deal ..."

McCoy stared into the indifferent blue eyes intently, barely hearing the tirate she had begun. In his mind, he was slamming her up against one of the elevator walls and silencing her with a kiss….in his mind the emergency stop button had been pushed and clothes were being loosened while hands roamed… while he kissed away her concerns and she kissed away his guilt and self doubt….

"That's the point," he countered as he snapped back into realty."We use those cases to deal, to use as leverage to get the lower members of the food chain to testify or give us evidence. You do the same thing with the cases we send you on the Esparza family..."

"Save it for Judge Murray," she shot back as the doors opened and they moved forward."The bottom line is, disputing venue wouldn't be so personal if you hadn't elected to strut your scrawny ass across the bridge to fight me. You know damn well Connie could do exactly what you're going to try to do in there. I won't say sticking it to New York County won't give me pleasure, but it's an added bonus, Jack. That's all it is."

"The state of my ass isn't up for debate…although I must admit I'm surprised you took the time to notice," he countered with his well known scowl."But if you insist on going through with this, be warned: It won't be my ass that walks out of Judge Murray's courtroom in a sling."

"Do your worst, counselor," she as she beat his hand to the door."No, allow me. Age before smarts."

Once in the courtroom, the pair moved to their prospective sides of the room. Malinowski resisted the urge to remove the suit jacket that suddenly seemed uncomfortably warm. She could hear McCoy shuffling through his satchel and she used the opportunity to steal quick glance at the handsome profile…as well as his handsome backside.

She took a sharp breath and impatiently turned her attention back to her briefcase.

She knew she probably wouldn't have spent so much time analyzing the statistical benefits between the two countries unspoken agreement if she hadn't still been hurting after the couple's showdown. But, she told herself as the judge entered the room, it was true that Suffolk County was getting the small end of the stick regarding the gentleman's agreement between the two counties.

It was time to bring the situation to a head. It was just business. It was a matter of law to be decided by the court, not just a chance to legally rip Jack McCoy a new one. Besides, she only found out he was handling the matter personally less than an hour before court.

"All right. I've read your briefs, counselors," the urbane black man said as he settled into his seat on the bench. "Mr. McCoy, I'll start with you first. It seems to me, the agreement between the two countries is a nonbinding one. That as a matter of law, the county in which the criminal act is committed has every right to claim jurisdiction and allow its own District Attorney's Office to try said case."

"Your honor, you're correct on the face, but not in regards to the spirit of the law," McCoy countered.

Malinowski listened as the deep, raspy voice eloquently explained the rationale behind the agreement in dispute. Her body responding to its sound and the passion it held. As she ran her tongue over her lips, she gave in and slipped the suit jacket onto the back of her chair, revealing the maze satin blouse that she discreetly unbuttoned at the collar.

"…and as with the five hundred yard exception..."

"Mr. McCoy knows the exception not only doesn't apply here, but is only enforceable by the courts on a case by case basis," she countered automatically, like a tennis player anticipating a well used strategy by her opponent.

"Ms. Malinowski just made my point, for me," McCoy shot back as he handed the court clerk a file folder."Your honor, this is a list of the cases that the two countries have exchanged in the past five years.You will note the number of man hours it would take for your honor and his associates to have to rule on each of these cases on a case by case basis… one of the reasons for this agreement was to expedite prosecution, another was to relieve the courts of the undue burden..."

"A burden I'm sure you honor would agree, the courts happily bear as opposed to giving prosecutors or any other elected official standing in an area so clearly within the realm of the judiciary."

McCoy shook his head in disbelief as he lowered his eyes to hide his frustration. Not only was she ready with a counter to everything that came out of his mouth, she was using the chemistry between them to throw him off his game… and it was working… to a point.

McCoy himself had never, nor would he ever, ask a female in his office to use her famine wiles as a weapon against defense counsel. But that didn't mean he didn't know the game. When he looked over and saw the outline of her bosom against the golden material, the first few buttons open and exposing the faintest hint of her neck and décolletage, he had to will his lower region not to respond.

As much as he wanted to take the few short strides to where Malinowski stood pull her to him and ravage that salty little mouth of hers with his own, McCoy wanted to ravage her professionally, as well.

McCoy had accused her of making the case personal. For him, it was more than personal now; it was primal.

"So is Suffolk County suggesting that we sacrifice expediency for procedure? Justice for process," he asked incredulously, his voice rising in pitch and volume.

"Is New York County implying the Suffolk County courts are not to be trusted to hand down justice," Malinowski countered with equal passion. "If that's the case, need I remind Mr. McCoy of the blatant corruption and unethical behavior of Judges from his county such as Judges Nathan Marx and Gary Feldman. Both men examples of how elected officials from New York county have failed show they are anything but low life sleaze, uninterested in anything or anyone but satisfying their own self serving needs..."

The fraction of a second that their eyes met was all that was needed to confirm that each knew Malinowski had not only had sent an unspoken message that was meant to slice open McCoy's emotional jugular more swiftly than a razor blade could have opened the actual vein; but that the message had been received loud and clear.

"Ms. Malinowski, let's not make this about personalities," Murray interjected, blissfully unaware of the underlying current in his courtroom. "While I appreciate your confidence in the Suffolk courts, we are not here to condemn my brethren on the other side of the bridge."

"I apologize to the court, your honor," Malinowski said softly, her gaze still fixed on her opponent."My point was that Suffolk County prosecuting cases that originate in Suffolk County will not endanger the interests of justice being served. In fact, it will enhance the process…"

"If Ms. Malinowski believes tying the courts up with cases that could be more swiftly processed by two sister offices working cooperatively doesn't endanger the interest of justice being served, she is naive," McCoy said indifferently, as he turned his attention back to the front of the courtroom.

"Is it naïve to expect Mr. McCoy to keep his hands out of the cookie jar when the cookies in question are clearly off limits," she shot back hotly.

The pair swung around to face each other; McCoy's jaw set defiantly and Malinowski glaring at him with open conttempt, before belated adding,"according to the confines of the statue, of course."


	7. Chapter 7

"It's a hollow victory," Malinowski called from the bathroom as she supervised the battle between her hairspray and a stubborn lock of hair that refused fall into place."I won the motion, but McCoy won the war. He's right. And you know how much I hate that."

"Look, you know the budget is based on caseloads and conviction rates," her host replied as he leaned against the bathroom door."You did what you had to do for the good of the office. "

"It's supposed to be about justice, Jake," she countered as she reached for a comb."Not about money."

"No. That was when you were just a lowly ADA. As an EADA you have to look at the big picture. Besides, it's up to Michael and Jack to work out a system that is equitable to both countries. You did your job yesterday. Now, do your job today and help me with my tie."

Malinowski set the hair products down. Dutifully moving to the doorway, she reached for the black silk strip around Jake Cohen's neck. When the pair had met for lunch the previous afternoon, she had let Cohen convince her of the futility of dressing for a formal affair by the light of the ladies room at the DA's office. Her best friend had also nixed the idea of staying in her old home the night before he ex-husband was to remarry.

_"God Brooke how depressing is that, anyway,"Cohen exclaimed when Malinowski told him of Prescott's suggestion. "I know Sam meant well...but gee... the history in that house with you and Sam as well as with Jack...just thinking about it makes **me** depressed. Listen, Sam's so low key about this bachelor party stuff, I know I'll be home by ten. Take my key. Go to my place. We'll watch old movies and I'll bring you decandent left overs from the party and even more decandent gossip about it when I get home."_

_Malinowski knew he was right. Seeing McCoy at the courthouse had been a bittersweet experience. Staying in a house filled with so many memories on top of that meeting was the last thing she wanted to do._

_"Okay,"she finally replied. "But, I get to pick the first movie."_

_Cohen triumphantly grinned._

_"I guess that means I better practice my Claude Rains impression before I get home."_

After a night of junk food_, Casablanca_, and intermittent pity parties that alternated between discussing the pros and cons of both of their failed attempts at relationships, the pair had over slept and were playing catch up in an effort to make it to Manhattan before Prescott and Melnick started down the aisle.

"Hold still."

"Listen, I know you think you know what you're doing," Cohen began, trying to speak as he complied with her instructions. "But are you sure … I mean, I walked in on the two of you in court with Judge Murray yesterday. I know what I saw, even if Murray didn't. You know he loves you Brooke, why don't you shallow your pride and..."

"Because it doesn't matter what I know, Jack has to be sure himself. There, check it out," she said as she turned her attention back to her hair. "Besides, who knows who he's going to show up with at that wedding. There's no way I'm walking in there alone or with someone 'safe'; someone Jack_ knows_ isn't a threat."

"And this isn't about your pride at all, _right_?"

"I didn't say that," Malinowski countered defensively. "I'm human. If he shows up with that Galiano bitch, I have no intention of looking like the poor little rape victim in front of people like Ben and Shambala or Lindsay. What kind of an example will I be setting for Lindsay if I..."

"God, you do really believe this crap or do you just think I'm clueless enough to buy it," Cohen asked rolling his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

"Answer me Dad. Do you really believe that crap or are you just being stubborn?"

Jack McCoy gave his daughter an irritated glance before signing the guest book.

"Rebecca, do you think you can do me one favor today and keep your voice down? At least while you see fit to interrogate me as if I've committed mass murder. If you can't do it for me, could you do it for Danielle? I'm sure she'd like to enjoy her wedding day and not have to play referee for the two of us."

The young woman on McCoy's arm nodded curtly as an usher approached them to lead them to their seats. The interior of the chapel was decorated with various assortments of purple and pink flowers; the ushers clad in grey morning suits.

"I still want an answer," Rebecca McCoy whispered as she took her seat behind a defense attorney she recognized from _Court TV_. "Why have you let this insanity between Brooke and yourself go on for almost a month? I thought you loved her Dad; I thought she loved you. I mean the way she defended you when she came to see me…for her to take the time to do that…God Dad, you can't just let her slip away."

McCoy studied his daughter's face carefully. Even with the smartly done make and hair she still seemed so young, so vulnerable, to him. When they had met earlier in the month, the first thing she asked was where his fiancée was.

_McCoy made his answer as short and to the point as he could, knowing the hell he was about to recieve from his daughter._

_"She told me to get out and I did,"he said defensively._

_"Just like that? For no reason?"_

_"I have doubts about a third marriage Rebecca. That's what it boils down to and Brooke senses it," he said as he waited for the gates of hell to open._

_Rebecca surprised him by calmly nodding and continuing to eat the remainder of her lunch. McCoy watched in stunned silence, studying his daughter as if she was one of those undetonated land mines from World War II...the kind of device that sits quietly for years and then explodes without warning._

_"You don't seem surprised."_

_"I'm not."_

_"Why?"_

_"Mom."_

_"Mom," McCoy repeated. "What about your mother?"_

_"When I told her about Brooke's visit... when I said that I thought this time you'd found someone who'd love you inspite of yourself no matter what... Mom told me you'd screw it up."_

_McCoy tried to not to show how badly her words stung him. He thought about his first wife. She was a woman who could give as good as she got, but he found it hard to believe after all these years, Liz would view him in such cynical and unforgiving light._

_"Your mother said that," he pressed."She said I'd deliberately screw things up with Brooke?"_

_Rebecca reached for her iced tea, not bothering to look at her father._

_"That's how I took it," she responded indifferently._

_"Rebecca, is that what she **said** or is that just your interpretation of what she said?"_

_"She said you'd have a hard time forgiving yourself for the kidnapping and…. and everything else. She said you were always too hard on yourself and it would surprise her if this time would be any exception. She said you never thought you deserved to be happy, even when you two were together," the young woman said bitterly."Mom's judgment isn't exactly objective. She still has a soft spot for you, even if I don't ."_

"Dad I lowered my voice, now answer me," Rebecca continued as the chapel began to fill with guests."Do you really believe she's better off without you?"

"You said yourself if it wasn't for my arrogance, my take 'no prisoners at any cost attitude' as a persecutor…and yes I caught the irony; persecutor, not prosecutor… what happened in Canada wouldn't have happened."

"That is such crap," she snapped, her face reddening as the woman beside her shot her a look."I mean, not only did Brooke tell me what cr- what garbage that was when I was the one having the pity party, you said yourself no one could control what people like Rostov do."

"Becky not now," McCoy quietly hissed, as Ben and Shambala Stone were ushered to the two empty seats beside him.

The look on Ben Stone's face said everything the nudge in his ribs told him not to say. After McCoy stood and greeted the former prosecutor's wife with a hug, Shambala Green-Stone exchanged pleasantries with Rebecca McCoy, while the two men remained silent.

"…yes, Becky that's right. Ben's daughter is studying at Sanford. If Danielle and Sam had given her a little more notice, she might have been able to come home for the wedding. Two weeks is hardly enough notice for people living in New York, for someone living on the west coast, it's like no notice at all. Leave it to Danielle to organize a wedding so beauitfully in less than a month," Green-Stone continued as she looked around the room, while taking her seat next to McCoy."I didn't even have my dress picked out in a month when Ben and I got married."

"I'll bet Brooke gave Danielle some pointers on last minute dress shopping," Rebecca replied shooting her father a defiant look."It took her less than a half an hour to settle on her wedding dress when we went to Canada."

Green-Stone smiled uncomfortably at McCoy and turned to glanced at her husband who was still on his feet.

"Ben," she whispered sharply,"This is Dani's day, let's all try to remember that."

As her husband reluctantly took his seat, Green-Stone took his hand and turned her no nonsense expression on Becky.

"Like I said, let's _all_ try to remember who's day this is, young lady."

McCoy mouth a silent 'thank you' before turning a stern eye on his daughter.

"Understood," McCoy quietly barked.

"Understood," Becky said addressing Green-Stone, without acknowledging her father. "Shambala, what's up with the canopy? It's beautiful, but why is it at the front of the chapel?"

"Dani explained it to me. It's for the nisui, after the official ceremony. The bride and groom stand beneath the chuppah, a canopy held up by four poles, symbolic of their dwelling together and of the husband's bringing the wife into his home. The importance of the chuppah is so great that the wedding ceremony is sometimes referred to as the chuppah. The bride and groom recite seven blessings, the sheva brakhos in the program are in the presence of a minyan. That will be the group of men that will come forward; they are a prayer quorum of 10 adult Jewish men."

As Green continued to explain, Stone and McCoy alternated between listening and scanning the parade of defense attorney's, prosecutors, and assorted family members moving down the aisle. Both exchanged pleasantries with Abbie Carmichael and Paul Robinette, as well as Arthur Branch and his wife.

When Branch returned McCoy's warm greeting, his eyes were as cold as the ice in Rockefeller center. Branch gave McCoy's hand an especially firm squeeze, as he insisted on a drink and some 'private time' with McCoy at the reception. McCoy sighed and was on the verge of telling Branch what he could do with his 'private time', when Jake Cohen interjected his greeting to the conversation.

"Greetings one and all. Senator and Mrs. Branch, Sam will be delighted when I tell him you were able to make it after all."

"You tell old Prescott, I said we southern boys need to stick together," Branch replied as he introduced his wife to the attractive attorney.

McCoy watched the exchange with curiosity, discreetly scanning the crowd behind Cohen, surprised not to see Malinowski on his arm.

"Have you seen Brooke yet," Green-Stone asked as the Branches moved to take their seats.

"She is coming today isn't she," Ben Stone interjected. "If there's anyone that has a right to be here. it's.."

"What Ben means is; Sam would be disappointed if Brooke wasn't here to share this day with him," Green-Stone countered, already tiring of the role of peacemaker.

Cohen bit his lip and gave McCoy a look of complete discomfort.

"Listen Jack,"Cohen began in a tone just above a whisper."If Brooke finds out I told you this, I'm as dead as the informant that ratted out Vinnie Massacci, but..."

Before Cohen could complete his thought, Stone and McCoy were back on their feet. Green-Stone and Rebecca McCoy were wide eyed and speechless as Malinowski and her date exchanged pleasantries with the group.

"Jake, being that you are acting as best man, don't you think you better go check on the groom," Malinowski said, giving her best friend a frosty smile. "Whatever you have to say to Jack, I'm _sure_ it can keep until the reception."

"Brooke, you look wonderful," Stone said as he embraced his Malinowski. "Sam will be pleased you made it today. Mike, last time I heard, you were preparing to defend that Klan leader in Missouri..."

Mike LaSalle took the hand Stone extended.

"That I am. As much as it sickens me to think about the things my client condons as a Klansman, it sickens me just as much to see the way my client was beaten while in police custody," LaSalle explained, as Green-Stone nodded in agreement. "I go back Sunday morning. No way was I gonna miss Dani's big day. Who'd of thought old Silent But Deadly would end up with a pistol like Dani?"

McCoy watched with growing annoyance as Malinowski gave LaSalle a playful nudge, her hand turning his face toward her, LaSalle's hand resting causally on her shoulder.

"Hey LaSalle, did you forget who you're talking to? Sam Prescott never was one to go for the quiet, demurer type. Besides, if he finds out you're still calling him Silent But Deadly, you're gonna see the deadly side, first hand."

"Brooke, who exactly is this...,"Rebecca began.

"Mike LaSalle this is my daughter Rebecca," McCoy interjected with forced nonchalance; noting what appeared to be a flash of surprise in Malinowski's eyes. "Rebecca, Mike is the senior partner for LaSalle, Bell, and Garnett."

McCoy could feel the group's eyes on him, as his daughter and LaSalle went through the usual polite noises and Malinowski extended her hand.

"No hard feelings about yesterday?"

"No hard feelings," he repeated as he took her hand in his,"on any count."

"Well,_ I_ have...,"Rebecca began, only to feel Green-Stone reach behind McCoy and give his daughter's shoulder a warning squeeze.

"It looks like they're ready to start," Green-Stone interjected. "Maybe you two better find a seat."

As the pair moved down the aisle, Rebecca gave the older woman a scathing look. Before the younger woman could launch into a tirade, Green-Stone reached across McCoy for the younger woman's hand and gave her a knowing look. Aware McCoy's attention was still on Malinowski and LaSalle, Green-Stone mouthed the words 'Trust me' to the younger woman.

As the two members of the clergy took their places, McCoy's gaze followed Malinowski as she and LaSalle found their seats on the other side of the aisle.

_Mike LaSalle?!? Of all the skirt chasing, smooth talking shysters in this town, she has to pick that son of a bitch..._, McCoy thought bitterly._ Even Mike Logan would have been an easier pill to swallow...At least Logan's on the right side of the aisle…hell, at least Logan has morals..._

Even though it had been years, McCoy could still remember the hell LaSalle had put ADA Tracey Kibre though when the two were an item. The man had the same kind of smooth charm many had accused McCoy of using to his advantage. The years had been kind to LaSalle; the lines in his face only seemed to make the man appear more handsome and world wise. The deep blue eyes still sparkled the way a cat's eyes do when it's about the pounce on its prey; eyes that were highlighted by the hints of grey in the dark brown hair.

_What the hell is she thinking?_

"I think the hand on the shoulder had the effect you were looking for," LaSalle whispered as they sat down. "He's still watching…exactly how far do you want to take this, Brooke?"

Malinowski gave LaSalle a quick smile, as she kissed him chastely on the cheek.

"About this far. I owe you big time for this Mike. I know it must seem ridiculous, but..."

La Salle shook his head as he thought about the request his former boss had made the night of the bachelor party. In the brief time LaSalle had spent in the States Attorney's Office, he had developed a lasting friendship with both Sam Prescott and his former wife. When Prescott approached him about escorting Malinowski to the wedding, he was surprised but also touched Prescott would entrust him with such a task…especially knowing Prescott was very much aware of his shortcomings his dealing with the women in his own life.

Although he didn't know the details, it was common knowledge that McCoy and Malinowski had put their engagement on hold. While Prescott didn't go into the specifics, LaSalle had been at the banquet that fateful night and had seen the effort Vanessa Galiano was making with Jack McCoy. It didn't take too much imagination to put the pieces together.

"I'm the last person who should judge anything remotely romantic. As far as owing me, I owe _you_ for giving me the pleasure of jerking McCoy's chain," he whispered with a chuckle. "That in itself is worth the price of admission."

As Prescott took his place beside Cohen, Malinowski caught his eye and mouthed the words 'good luck', which his former husband acknowledged with a slight bow. As the music began, the guests stood and Danielle Melnick began her slow march to the alter.

The floor length veil was made of lace, gave the briefest of glimpse of the brides face. Between the veil and the surprisingly modest gown of cotton, Melnick walked down the aisle with an air of innocenc... of freshness... that touched Malinowski's heart as she watched Prescott's adorning response.

The ceremony itself lasted less than an hour. The couple's exchange with the urbane minister was deliberately short and to the point, in order to allow the rabbi the time that was needed to complete the traditional Jewish ceremony.

As the couple completed the standard blessings over wine, Prescott and Melnick exchanged bans. As he placed the thick gold ban on his bride's finger, Malinowski could feel a single tear start down her cheek while she listened to him repeat the rabbi's words.

"Danielle Rose, be sanctified to me with this ring, in accordance with the law of Moses and Isreal."

Malinowski couldn't help but think back to her own wedding day. A day so completely different in traditions and ceremony, yet invoking the identical response from the man at the alter. As the sound of Prescott's foot meeting glass bounced off the walls of the chapel, Malinowski could see the bliss in his eyes, as one chapter of his life came to an end and a new one began with Danielle.

"Brooke," LaSalle whispered, as he offered her his handkerchief.

Malinowski felt his arm go around her shoulders in a genuine show of concern. Taking the offered cloth, she gave into the urge to turn to see the man whose absence beside her, made her tears harder to stop.

When her eyes met the only other pair not glued on the bride and groom, the look of hopelessness in McCoy's face made Malinowski's heart ache all the more.


	9. Chapter 9

As the guests waited for the bride and groom to join them at the reception hall, Malinowski took one of the two glasses of champagne from LaSalle and glanced toward the doorway.

"Mike, you've done your duty. I just saw Tracey Kibre head toward the buffet table and she wasn't with anyone. If you want to go…"

"Brooke, you know Tracey and I have been over for years. Besides, I am gentleman enough not to abandon my date five minutes after we arrive."

"Listen you two may have parted ways, but I remember how close you were to popping the question to Tracey," she countered. "Don't let her think something's going on here that isn't. Really, go talk to her and I'll catch up with you before Sam and Danielle have a chance to do the Hora."

LaSalle shrugged his shoulders as he kissed her forehead.

"As you wish but, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

_What the hell have I done…how did I let things get this far…this out of control,_ she wondered as she watched LaSalle tap Kibre on the shoulder. _How could I have been so stupid? Of course Jack would bring Becky with him...Danielle's known Becky since she was an infant, it's only natural she would been invited to the wedding._

Malinowski downed the champagne and smoothly exchanged it with on of the full glasses on a tray, as a waiter passed by. The feeel of a hand on her shoulder, caused her to turn.

"Girl, have you lost your mind," Shambala Green-Stone demanded, as she took the glass from her friend's hand.

"Hey, I am nowhere near the legal limit yet, Sham. Besides, this is a celebration and ..."

"I don't care if you drink yourself silly…wait… that would be impossible since you're already acting like some silly high schoolgirl that's been jilted by her prom date. What are you thinking showing up at the wedding with Mike LaSalle? When Jack figures out what you're doing, he's just gonna push back harder and you two will never work this mess out."

"I figured Jack would show up with that Galiano bitch and there was no way in hell," Malinowski stiffly began.

Malinowski knew Green-Stone was right on every point. But she not only didn't want to discuss her embarrassing attempt to one up Jack McCoy, now that she realized her error, she wasn't sure how to stop what she had already set in motion.

Green –Stone rolled her eyes as she shook her head impatiently.

"Do you really think Jack would be stupid enough to bring Vanessa to Danielle's wedding? That would be suicide for both of them after the way she came onto to Sam at the banquet."

"She did _what_?"

"You heard me," Green-Stone retorted, deeping her voice low. "She was all skin and hair that night and when she wasn't trying to play Jack, she was sending out signals to Sam, with Danielle standing _right there_. Ben and I were five feet away when Danielle led that man out to the terrace like she was taking him to the wood shed."

Malinowski snatched the glass back from her friend and defiantly took a sip.

"You're kidding and Jack saw the whole thing?"

"Saw it and led_ her_ out the same way. Listen Brooke, I have no idea what happened when he got her alone, but it was obvious to me she was playing games with him," Green-Stone said candidly. "I know you've been through hell the last few months, but God forgive me for saying this, so has Jack. Maybe that's why he's acting the fool. I don't know, but I _do_ know, when you walked in with Mike LaSalle anyone with eyes could see how much it hurt him. You made your point, now talk to the man before..."

"You lying little slut," Rebecca McCoy hissed as she grabbed Malinowski by the arm.

"Rebecca," Green-Stone whispered sharply as she attempted to dodge the wave of spilled champagne. "I told you to trust me. You're only going to make things worse."

"I kept the peace at the chapel for Danielle's sake, but I _will not_ stand by and watch this bitch publicly humiliate my father. Outside now or I swear, I'll make such a scene..."

Malinowski could see the matching looks of concern on the faces of her brother and niece, as they watched the scene from the buffet table.

"Fine. But unless your intent is to ruin the reception, you'll let go of my arm and we'll walk out of here with the appearance of civility," the older woman shot back, as she cocked her head towards her niece.

Rebecca immediately dropped the other woman's arm and turned on her heel.

"Brooke, let me talk to her..."

"No Sham, just make up something to tell Andy and Lindsay while I deal with this," Malinowski told her friend as she moved towards the doorway.

Malinowski followed the angry young woman to a bench a few yards away from the main doorway. As she sat down, the young woman gave her a look that was at once questioning and stricken. Malinowski felt a wave of shame wash over her.

"I had no idea you'd be here, Becky. I thought..."

"Obviously you _didn't_ think,"Rebecca said tightly,"or you not only wouldn't be here with another man, you wouldn't have left my father to start with."

"Speaking of your father, where is he?"

"He's returning a call from one of the EADA's. Don't try to change the subject. I was raised by two lawyers and I know all of your tricks."

"And the subject is what? Why your Dad and I aren't together? What did your Dad tell you?"

"He told me he had doubts about a third marriage and now I can see why," she spat back contemptuously. "Were you fucking this Lasalle guy before you left or..."

Before either could think, Rebecca was holding her stinging cheek, as Malinowski looked down at her own hand in horror.

"How dare you,"Rebecca stammered, as she rubbed the place where Malinowski had slapped her."_You_ are _not_ my mother, Brooke. _You_ are just some sl-"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have a matched set," Malinowski warned, as the trembling in her hands grew worse. "You're right. I'm not your mother; I'm not even your father's wife. You want to know why I threw your father out? It was about self respect. I love your dad and I love you Becky, but no one gets to take myself respect. Not you, not Jack, not those bastards that raped me. To answer your other question, I don't just 'fuck' the men I go to bed with. The last man I made love with was your father, not that you should even have to ask."


	10. Chapter 10

As Jack McCoy turned from the bar, he scanned the room, looking for any sign of his daughter. When his eyes fell on La Salle and Kibre sharing intimate smiles, along with champagne, McCoy's curiosity aroused.

"Just the man I wanted to see," Arthur Branch said as he reached for his drink order."Jack, I've been meanin' to call you and tell what great job you've been doin' fillin' my shoes."

"That's not what you want to talk about right now, is it Arthur? Before you start, Brooke broke it off, not me. She threw me out and I have no intention of discussing specifics about it with you or anybody else, today."

Branch sighed heavily, before motioning for McCoy to follow him out of the way of the thirsty crowd behind them.

"Now Jack. You know I was less than thrilled to hear you were standing the way of Brooke and Sam reconciling when he came back from Tulsa. But obviously Sam's dealt with it, so who am I to..."

"Arthur, just say what you're going to say, so I can find my daughter and get out of here," McCoy said gruffly. "I think I've just about had my fill of celebrating. Although if you're set on lecturing the man in Brooke's life, you should really address your remarks to Mike LaSalle. After all, he brought her to the wedding."

"You're not serious," Branch responded as he scanned the room for confirmation. "On his best day,Mike LaSalle makes _you_ look like a monk. What would possess Brooke to involve herself with a man like that?"

"Ice and a plastic bag," McCoy heard his daughter say to the bartender.

When McCoy turned around he found his daughter and Malinowski several steps behind him; one of his daughters cheeks glowing.

Before he could move to where the women stood, the room thundered as the bride and groom made their entrance and the band began to play the traditional music for the Hora. McCoy turned towards the sound of cheering and swore silently; knowing any plan for escape would be futile until the crowd had cleared from the center of the room.

When he turned back to where he'd seen his daughter, McCoy found both women had disappeared. Arthur Branch was moving towards the newlyweds, as well. With a sigh, McCoy finished his drink and began making his way through the crowd.

"I hope someone is getting this on tape," Mike La Salle said to the attractive states attorney who stood beside him."People in your office would pay top dollar to see Sam Prescott held up in a chair off the ground like this."

Abbie Carmichael nodded and grinned as she watched the crowd raise the bride and groom upwards as the crowd began to dance to the music.

"As much grief as that woman gave me when I was in the DA's office, I have to admit she brings something out in Sam I've never seen before," Carmichael commented as she watched Prescott hold on to his end of the handkerchief as if he'd lose his bride forever if he let go.

"So Abbie? Any chance I could interest you in a walk in the moonlight when the crowd clears?"

Carmichael gave the well known attorney an amused sneer. Not only was she well aware of Mike LaSalle's reputation, she had seen him come to the wedding with Brooke Malinowski.

"I think your _date_ might have a problem with that, Mike," she said drily. "Where is Brooke, anyway?"

As La Salle began to explain his situation, the dance came to its natural end and the crowd fell silent as the best man made the first toast of the evening.

By the time Cohen had finished a surprisingly serious and equally touching, tribute to the couple, McCoy had joined the two attorneys' on the dance floor.

"Excuse me Abbie, but have either of you seen my daughter?"

Upon getting a negative response from both LaSalle and Carmichael, McCoy turned to continue his search, surprised to feel Carmichael tugging his sleeve.

"Abbie," McCoy responded as he allowed her to take his and guide him towards the French doors that led to the garden. "Is something on your mind?"

"Do you realize I've been trying to reach you for almost a month," the slender brunette demanded. "Gee Jack, are you too busy to check your messages now that you're DA?"

"I'm sorry Abbie," McCoy said apologetically as the pair stopped underneath a large oak tree, far enough from the reception to not have to raise their voices to be heard. "I got your messages and assumed it was business. Didn't Mike Cutter take care of whatever you needed?"

"It wasn't business," the Texan said uncomfortably. "Listen, I did have a matter I needed to discuss with you...a business matter... the night of the Trial Lawyers banquet. I tried to…I waited for you to finish with Vanessa Galiano and… well when you were done it was obvious it wasn't the time to try to talk to you about anything."

McCoy sighed as he cursed the fact that night ever happened.

"Abbie, too much has been made of that night, in more ways than you can image. Please don't..."

"It's part of why you and Brooke are on the out's, isn't it Jack?"

"Abbie, this has been a trying enough day without..."

"Jack, I know it's none of my business," Carmichael said bluntly. "But I worked with you when you and Vanessa were involved. I remember the highs and lows you went through with that woman. Maybe you've forgotten them, but I haven't. As a friend, I have to tell you...you need to know... she's just playing with your emotions, Jack."

"Damn it Abbie," McCoy snapped, stuffing his hands in the pants pockets of his suit. "If I have to tell one more person I didn't sleep with that woman I'm going to hit something! As for the inner workings of Vanessa Galiano's mind, I doubt seriously you would have any insight..."

"I've been dating Charlie Graham, Jack."

Carmichael could have knocked her former supervisor over with a feather when her words registered with him. As it was, McCoy instinctively reached for the tree truck help support himself ,as he gaped at her incredulously.

"Yeah. I know, Charlie isn't the type of man I usually go for but..."

"I thought you were here with the guy from frauds?"

"Kevin? We broke up after the banquet. I started seeing Charlie right after. He was supposed be here today, he took the job with Vanessa's firm and she sent him to Boston on a case this week. He was supposed to be back in town for the wedding, but…anyway…the point is Charlie told me about the night at _Gino's_. The night Brooke lost it with Vanessa. He told me she made a bet with him that night after Brooke threw that drink at her. She said could get you to call off the wedding if she set her mind to it.Charlie told her she was crazy but..."

McCoy's head was spinning; spinning from too much drink with too little food, the idea of Abbie and Charlie Graham, as well as her revelation.

"I thought Vanessa and Charlie..."

"Charlie was considering an offer from her firm. They're personal relationship ended over a year ago. Jack, I'm sorry. I really _did_ try to talk to you, I even went to Danielle and Sam. But, Danielle couldn't get you to shut up long enough to listen to her and Sam... Sam called you a horses ass and refused to interfere, period."

"Why….why would…?"

Carmichael shook her head, amused and amazed a man who could so easily charm women, had so little insight into how some of them thought.

"Come on Jack, think about it. You were with her almost a year, during one of the most vulnerable points in your life…that time right after your second divorce…and you never asked _her_ to marry you. For a bi...for a woman like Vanessa, it's inconceivable that you could pass _her_ up for another woman. Charlie told her to leave it alone, that the two of you had been through enough …but Vanessa saw herself as a woman scorned," Carmichael shrugged her shoulders. "She seemed to think she could play the guilt card …if she got it into your head you were marrying Brooke out of some misplaced sense of guilt ...well, I just thought you should know what she had said."

"Oh God, she played me… When she left me it was because I wouldn't marry her. She played me to even the score" McCoy muttered under his breath, as he gazed down at the grass feeling weary, defeated, and foolish…very, very foolish…


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: This chapter contains mentions of song lyrics and the artists that perform said songs, for dialogue purposes only. I think they are within the guidelines. If not PLEASE PM me and I will edit them out!! Clearly the songs: The First Cut is the Deepest & Help me Make it Through the Night do NOT belong to me and I am in NO WAY trying to profit from said songs!!_

"Come on darlin' you've got to dance at least one dance with the groom," Prescott said as he took the champagne flute out of her hand and led his ex-wife to the dance floor.

"Why the hell can't people stop taking my champagne and let me drink in peace," Malinowski mumbled as she let herself be taken to the dance floor. "I thought you had a new wife. Why don't you go harass _her_, Prescott?"

"Because right now, she's busy harassin' that guy you're gonna end up marryin', whether you want to admit it or not. Side's", he continued with a wide grin, as he held out his arms,"just 'cause I married Danielle, doesn't mean I have to give up one of my favorite pastimes, does it darlin'?"

Malinowski answered with a sigh and placed her hands on his shoulders. She felt too drained from events of the day, as well as the amount of liquor she had consumed, to argue with anyone about anything. She listened to the sound of the band, as the lead singer began singing the words to one of Malinowski's favorite songs.

"Damn it Sam, who am I gonna sing this old stuff with, now that you're officially another woman's?"

Prescott chuckled softly, as he glanced a few feet from them, to where the new Mrs. Prescott and McCoy were dancing.

"The Irishman's not one for song? Another strike against that horses ass," he replied with a chuckle, before leaning close and singing, "_…I__ would have given you all of my heart, but there's someone who's torn it apart and she's taking almost all that I've got."_

"Sure, _now_ you say that, after you've gone and married another woman," Malinowski joked, before joining him with the refrain to _The First Cut is the Deepest_.

As she softly sang, Malinowski found herself thinking about how extraordinary it was to be in Sam Prescott's arms...at his wedding reception..no less. While it still felt like a natural olace fo rher to be, as well as a safe and secure place, it was clear the passion they once shared had been replaced by mutual respect and deep feelings of friendship.

As she looked discreetly over her his shoulder at McCoy, Malinowski suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of sadness, as well as regret. Part of her wondering if the couple had thrown away any chance of finding their way back to one another...

"You know you want make things right with him, so why don't you use the good sense God gave you and go talk to the horses ass, " Prescott demanded, as she gave her a quick spin.

"Because, _the first cut is the deepest_," she countered, not wanting to have yet _another_ conversation about her relationship with Jack McCoy.

Prescott sighed, as he took another glance towards at the couple that had moved closer.

"Damn woman, that stubborn streak always did you more harm than good. Thank God you have people like me and Cohen to look out for you."

"Hey, that reminds," Malinowski snapped, suddenly alert as she recalled the fact the last time she'd seen the best man, he was about tip McCoy off to her reasons for being with Mike LaSalle. "Where the hell _is_ that traitor, Cohen? We have unfinished business."

Prescott smiled to himself, pleased at the opening she had inadvertently given him.

"Why, he's right there. Take a look."

As Malinowski looked one way, Prescott turned her other way, at once releasing her and grabbing his bride out of McCoy's arms.

"Damn it Sam," Malinowski she said under her breath, as she was pushed into McCoy's arms. "Nothing personal Jack," she said breathlessly, as she looked up at her startled lover,"but I always hated it when Sam did things like this."

McCoy smiled reassuringly down at her, pausing to help her steady her balance.

"No one likes being tricked," he said, thinking of Galiano's stunt,"even with the best of intentions. You know, we can sit this one out if you'd rather not..."

Malinowski shook her head and slipped her hands onto his shoulders.

"Why waste a wonderful song?"

"You know, the original Stevens version is the best,"he replied with a raised eybrow and a hint of a smile.

"Actually, the Sheryl Crow remix is the best."

"If you say so," he said dutifully, as he tentively pressed her closer.

"Since when," she asked with a smirk.

"Since the only thing I want to do right now is dance. Not fight, not debate, just dance."

"Deal. Well, deal if you'll sing with me. You know if I'm singing I can't be swinging," she pointed out, returning his smile."That includes verbal swings, as well."

McCoy also knew from pervious experience Malinowski singing often meant Malinowski had been drinking…drinking enough to melt away her inhibitions.

"Reason enough to give into your request," he said softly._"I still want you by my side, just to help me dry the tears that I've cried...__"_

Malinowski smiled up at him, knowing a peace ofering when she heard it.

"I do you know," she said softly, as she met him half way. "I still want you by my side. I hate where things have ended up with us, Jack."

"My fault," he said as he ran a hand through her hair, his own alcohol consumption helping him to put his pride aside, as he thought about how much he'd missed performing such a simple act."Should have never let you throw me out…should have talked to you and made you listen…"

"Maybe, if I hadn't implied…my clean shave routine _was_ a bit much…,"she countered, unable to suppress a giggle."God, I'm so sorry Jack," she said as she tried to control her laughter. "Just thinking about the look on your face when you opened your eyes and saw that blade…"

McCoy chuckled as well, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks. More relaxed and more hopeful.

As the song ended the couple politely applauded, looking at each other quizzically as the next selection began.

"One more time, counselor? How often do you get two slow dances in a row," McCoy asked as he eyed her sheepishly.

Malinowski listened to the first few bars and bit her lip, as she pressed herself against McCoy.

"Dangerous lyrics, Jack. I'm not sure your daughter will approve."

"My daughter left hours ago. Shambala offered to drop Becky off at the train station. After they get more ice," he added as he raised an eyebrow. "You realize if Liz or myself had tried something like that, Becky would have had us charged with assault or child endangerment, depending on her age."

"I thought you didn't want to fight," she countered, as her face flushed with embarrassment.

"I don't, so maybe we better break this up before you date feels threatened," McCoy countered in a tone mixed with amusement, as well as curiousity, as he began rubbing the small of her back."what happended to LaSalle?"

"I ditched him the second he became expendable."

"Which was when?"

"The moment I realized there was no danger that you… when I realized there was no chance of Vanessa showing up on your arm," she bluntly as met his amused gaze with wide, innocent eyes."What can I say?," she bazenly admitted. "I'm a petty, jealous, conniving vixen when it comes to you and other women, so either deal with it or walk away, McCoy."

"For the record, I haven't seen Vanessa since that damned banquet,"he said simply.

"You didn't jump into her bed when I gave you the chance," Malinowski asked as her lips rested against the back of his ear.

"Jumping into a scotch bottle made more sense at the time. What can _I_ say? I guess I'm a one woman man, despite my reputation," he replied as he closed his eyes, drinking in her perfume debating how long he could play the gentleman. " Beside, weren't _you_ the one that wanted to sing; not debate.'

"With this one," she said lifting his head, so she could look him straight in the eyes."With this one; don't sing it if you don't mean, Jack."

"That's not just the liquor talking, counselor,"he asked, suddenly intrigued and more than a little aroused, by the turn the evening was taking.

"Try me and find out," she coyly replied.

McCoy grinned as he prepared to accept her challenge, leaning close as he whispered.

"_Come and lay down by my side, till the early mornin' light. All I'm askin' is your time. __Help me make it thru the night."_

_"I don't care who's right or wrong, I don't try to understand. Let the devil take tomorrow. __Lord, tonight I need a friend,"_ she countered, as she discreetly slipped her leg between his.

"You know, it's a long train ride to Islip," he said softly.

"Very long."

"I bought the original Kris Kristofferson version were it it first came out. I still have it on a cassette in my bedroom at the apartment. What do you say we get out of here and finish the last verse at my place?"


	12. Chapter 12

The unspoken concerns McCoy had about any residual anxiety Malinowski might have about returning to his place after her kidnapping, where dispelledd the moment the couple burst through his front door.

The heavy petting that had begun during the taxi ride from the reception resumed the moment they were behind closed doors. It had been all they could do from keep their hands off each other on the elevator ride they stared with his elderly upstairs neighbor.

"I lied to your daughter," Malinowski gasped in between kisses as she stripped off his tie and jacket and began unbuttoning his cuffs.

"What…what do you mean," he hissed as he reached for her zipper.

"I told her I don't fuck the men I sleep with…tonight...tonightt I'm going to fuck you senseless," she explained before swearing impatiently and pulling the front of his shirt open.

"Hey, that's a hundred and fifty dollar shirt.."he started to protest, his lips never leaving her shoulder.

"I'll pay you back in trade," she retorted impatiently, as she reached for his zipper."Besides, you're a public servant. You should be shopping at K-Mart, not at Brooks Brothers."

"That sounds like a proposition. Don't make me charge you with solicitation," he countered as her dress fell to the floor and he pressed her against the door frame.

"If I'm a hooker, you know what that makes you, right? My John. So shut up or I'll counter charge you with..." she began, stopping short as McCoy's mouth ravished her naked breasts.

"Oh lady, I'm your 'John' all right," McCoy said with a low laugh,before he lifted her into his arms and headed towards the bedroom.

Both of them were still laughing when McCoy set her down on the bed. After another lingering kiss, Malinowski surprised him by standing and running her hands through his hair, before beginning to kiss his neck.

"All right _John_. A proper call girl asks what her customer wants, so why don't you tell what you'd enjoy this evening," she whispered provocatively, as she took him by the hand and led him to the wall across from his bed.

Her lips moved from his neck to his shoulder, and then over his chest as she began to lower herself towards the floor McCoy groaned softly as he leaned against the wall. Her hands doing what her mouth would moments later, as she fondled him through his shorts.

"Surprise me," he whispered, as weeks of doubt and indecision were swept away by too much drink and a touch he couldn't say no to.

Malinowski was on her knees. After tossing the discarded undergarment out of the way, she pressed her face to the warm hairy region above his shaft.

"You're intoxicating, John…if you'd had your driver with you tonight... I would have done this the_ second_ we were in the car together."

The image of Malinowski reaching for him …caressing him…finally tonguing him in the backseat of the town car made what she was doing to him almost too much for him.

"Would you …would have charged extra or just …just made it a freebie," he panted as his body thrust in time with the motion of her lips that urged him to let go, to cum as her tongue teased and prodded him into a frenzy.

"Depends," she gasped, as she let her hand continue where her mouth left off.

"Depends?"

"On how good a fuck you turn out to be," she said seductively, before raising herself back up. "Customer's choice: I can suck you or I can fuck you…"

McCoy's eyes widened and he gave her a lecherous grin; stiffling his laughter at her shocking remark before he spin her around, facing her back to him as he ran his hands roughly over her breasts. As she moaned with pleasure, his hands moved over her buttocks and spread her legs. He could hear her low laugh, as she reached for the wall, anticipating his next move.

"Oh…God…oh Ja-..._John_…what big dick you have," she moaned as she felt her legs turn to jello.

"The better to fill you," he retorted as one hand held her waist, the other ran over her breasts, alternately caressing and squeezing, as his mouth moved over her neck."It's been… a long…longtime… for you...as well?"

"I'm….selective," she said, as she struggled to remain lucid."Selective about my clientele…"

"You mean," he whispered as he forced himself to hold on, to keep his thrusts deliberately teasing and slow."You're selective about who you fuck?"

"Yes…oh yes…," she breathed as she pressed against him…pressing inside and out…trying to squeeze him enough to weaken his resolve.

"Are you sure…sure you want to fuck me," he whispered as his free hand moved from her breasts to between her legs.

"Oh how I want to fuck you…oh, John, let me fuck you…"

Malinowski cried out as he lifted her up and turned towards the bed. As he set her down, she immediately sat up, ready to slip her leg over him and guide him to the slit that was warm and slick with her own lubricant.

"What… about you…," she asked as she watched his face contort with pleasure as she bore down on him.

"Humm?"

"Are you selective or do you fuck just anyone that spreads her legs for you?"

McCoy chuckled as he thrust upwards, in awe of where the evening had gone and how far they had already taken their charade. He could hardly believe the same woman that had spoken to him with such contempt in court a mere forty eight hours before was not only back in his bed, but saying and doing the things she was.

"I enjoy pleasing women…but fucking…I only fuck women that need to be put in their place."

Malinowski shot him a look as he flipped them, putting himself on top of her. His eyes twinkled mischievousl,y as he saw the flicker of defiance in the eyes that stared back at him.

"Bastard," she whispered as she fought to keep from smiling back at him.

"So do you," he demanded.

"What?"

"Need to be put in your place?"

"You are a son of a bitch, you know that, right?"

"That's why you're here with me tonight," he countered as he bent down his kiss each breast "I won't do it, unless you tell me to do it."

"I hate you," she said with smirk.

"That's why it's so good…you know my terms," he whispered as he began to enter her again. "I only fuck women that need to be put in their place."

"It better be better than good," she said as she began to grind her hips against him.

McCoy gave her a dangerous grin as he pulled her down to him, his mouth at once, demanding and tender against hers.

"Put me there…put me in my place, John…show me what a good fuck you really are…"

McCoy returned a hand to her button, her moans of pleasure giving him almost as much pleasure as the feel of her contractions pressing him inside her.

"Oh God Brooke…this is…_this_ is your place," he cried as he felt himself stiffen and his eyes become moist."... in my bed… in my heart…beside me."


	13. Chapter 13

McCoy watched with a sense of smug satisfaction, as his lover walked carefully crossed the room, hugging the white dress shirt that had been discarded hours earlier against her otherwise naked body. She moved with more of a hobble, than a stride; a condition resulting from a night of little sleep and much passion.

It wasn't her obvious discomfort that McCoy feel slightly arrogant that morning, it was the _reason_ for his lover's discomfort that gave the man on the farside of fifty a feeling of self satisfaction. Although the couple had what most people would consider a healthy sex life, the events that occured after McCoy and Malinowski left the Prescott's wedding reception, were above and beyond even McCoy's wildest expectations.

For a fleeting second he wondered if someone had spiked the drinks with Viagra at the celebration.

"What are you looking at," Malinowski demanded playfully, as she returned to his arms.

"I'm looking at the only woman who's ever made me glad my name is John," he said as he ran his hands over her torso, resting them on her waist, while he nuzzled the place where her neck met her shoulders."From the looks of things, I think I owe you a massage, if not an apology."

"An apology...I don't think so. A massage? If you think you're getting off that easy counselor, think again," she said with a grin."By my calculations, based on what the going rate for a 'Pro' to stay through the night was when I did my rotation in Sex Crimes, I'd say you owe me a couple of thousand dollars, easy."

"Don't forget to credit me for the shirt," he countered with a low laugh, as his hands began to roam under the buttonless material.

"Oh yeah," she said with a laugh as she looked down at the shirt."Sorry about that. Hey, I've been with you shopping enough to know you don't usually buy top of the line, what's the story with this shirt, Jack?"

"Danielle made it clear I was to dress to the nine's for her wedding," McCoy explained. "I assumed that meant a new shirt and tie. Seriously, maybe I should run you a bath?"

Malinowski shook her head as she turned on her side; encouraging him to spoon her while his hands carefully fondled her tender nipples.

"I don't want to move and not just because screwing all night like a twenty year old makes this middle aged body feel like it belongs to an eighty year old. Last night was heaven. I wouldn't change any thing about it."

"I'd take your body over the body of any twenty year old," McCoy whispered."The things you do with that body are … are magical."

Malinowski turned her head to look into the dark eyes that held a tenderness that matched the gentle strokes than had moved from her breast downward. Every part of her body was deliciously sore from the night that alternated between wild, passionate love making and interment cat naps, as the couple made up for the weeks they had been apart.

As sore as she was, the gentle touch of her lover's hands was awakening her desire to let him have her, yet again. Her soreness was a testament to how raw and sensual their desire had been.

"Magical," she repeated as the steady sound of the rain outside grew louder and faster."I thought last night was Sam and Danielle's night for magic?"

"There was enough magic in that room last night that I thought maybe Danielle had invited Harry Houdini himself," McCoy quipped as his warm hands moved up her goose bump ridden arms. "When the rain comes down like _that_, this place gets a draft. Maybe I should turn the heat up or get another blanket?"

Malinowski snuggled closer to him, as she shook her head.

"No, stay with me.," she replied in a small, soft voice that made him smile, as she caught his hand."We'll keep each other warm. Ironic isn't it?

"What?"

"This magical moment we're sharing…who'd of thought my ex-husband would not only have had a hand in making it happen, but did you ever dream Sam would literally _push_ me into your arms?"

McCoy shook her head, chuckling as he recalled how stunned he'd been to find he'd switched dance partners in the blink of an eye.

"Have to admit, _that_ is going in the books as one of life's great ironies…at least for my life…as was..."

When her lover's voice trailed off, Malinowski looked expectantly over her shoulder. Part of her inwardly cringed, sensing some sort of confession was on the tip of his tongue. After all the bumps in the road they had experienced as of late, part of her wanted to just lay silently, blissfully ignorant, in his arms and listen to the rain.

After several seconds she finally reached a hand to his neck and kissed him full on the lips.

"As well as?"

"I have to admit, that day you came out to the house at the start of that whole mess with Samantha Weaver, I never thought I'd have a chance in hell of lying like this with you."

"Wow, that seems like another lifetime ago, doesn't it," she responded, as her mind reflected on seeing him that day for the first time in so many years.

When she had returned the call from the officers at McCoy beach house, she had been more than a little shocked to hear the circumstances of the burglary call from the soon be DA's property. She grew even more suprised when she arrived and found Jack McCoy waiting for her outside on, his porch looking irate and yet charmingly bewildered, at the same time. It was a look in spite of the hard time she given him, she found instantly irresistible.

Malinowski turned to face him, her eyes growing amused when she began to suspect the meaning of his statement.

"You thought you'd never have a chance with me? Are you _serious_? Jack I thought I was widowed, not_ dead_! Did you really think I was immune to the McCoy Mystique?"

McCoy gave her an uncertain smile, cringing at her description. He was well painfully aware of the perception that had grown stronger over the years regarding his prowliness with women. While not entirely undeserved, the 'legend' of Jack McCoy 'Ladies Man' had become a source of annoyance, as well as embarrassment, over the last several years for him.

Yes, he'd slept with more than his share of assistants. Even though the pursuit women had always come easily to him, McCoy had never really understood what it was about him that seemed to attract them so effortlessly.

McCoy saw himself simply as a working class kid who'd make good; not as the legal professions version of some kind of a Lothario.

"Jack," she continued running a thoughtful hand over his chest, sensing his discomfort. "I always knew there was more to you than a good line, but..."

"But?"

"Ah…_I_ get it now," she said with sudden understanding."_You _thought the widow Prescott was unattainable …maybe the ultimate challenge?"

McCoy remembered Galiano's words with increasing shame: _…talk about unattainable…admit it Jack, getting Sam Prescott's widow into your bed had to outweigh just about any notch on your bedpost…_

"Not consciously…not after…,"he began, too mortified to bring himself to finish.

"Oh my God… Jack," she said with amazement.""What in hell did those nuns do to you when you were a kid, anyway? How can you feel guilty about ...do you realize the amount of unnecessary hell you put yourself through on a regular basis? Just because I didn't jump into bed with every guy that offered doesn't mean….remember last night? Does the word_ 'selective'_ mean anything to you? I was selective but that doesn't mean … don't you remember how long we waited? I should say_ you _waited? I had to practically drag you into this very room before you'd make love to me."

"I didn't want you to have any regrets afterwards," he said softly. "But, I can't deny the fact that after Sam came back… when you had a choice…no matter what I said I would have done anything I had to if it meant keeping you in my life, as well as my bed."

"I think that's called 'love', Jack."

"More like playing to win," he countered bluntly.

Exasperated, Malinowski's head fell back on her pillow as she stared at the smooth plaster above her.

"How do you think I felt when I threw that drink at Vanessa? Hell, Jack do you have any idea what an ego boost it is for a woman, not a gorgeous, dewy eyed young woman…but a middle aged, premenopausal woman, whose eyes have seen so much she need _Visine_ to clear the dirt from of them… do you know how it made me feel when old Hang 'Em High himself not only took me to bed , but wanted to make it legal?"

"Come on Brooke," McCoy interjected impatiently. "It's not the same thing. First of all, you're too sharp to fall for that whole McCoy Mystique crap."

Malinowski shook her head as she pulled the covers back.

"This conversation calls for some real food…some _brain_ food," she replied as she stood."As well as some coffee. God, I hope you have something left in the fridge."

"Nonresponsive," he countered with a smirk.

Malinowski tossed his robe in his direction, as she turned in the doorway.

"You're right. It wasn't just the mystique. It if it had been, I'd have slept with you a few times and broken it off myself, before you had a chance to break it off _yourself_," she said with equal smugness."Damned if I'd have set myself up to be just one more ADA that let Jack McCoy get into her pants and before you get all self righteous, I suspect you'd have done the same thing if you suspected for a second _I_ was just after the equally unattainable Jack McCoy."


	14. Chapter 14

The sum total of McCoy's refridgerator included a jar with a single remaining dill pickle, a carton of eggs who's expiration date was murky at best, and a loaf of bread that was ready to be used for penicillin. The pair called a reluctant time outfrom the morning's banter to consider their choices.

After weighing the limited options for food a five thirty on a Sunday morning, the couple opted to run by the Mom and Pop store that was within half a block from the loft and make breakfast together; the loft having an edge on comfort that included a larger bathtub and a fireplace with a full basket of wood beside it.

After inspecting the contents of the refrigerator at the place the couple had called home before their last falling out, Malinowski looked back at the man who was already unpacked the groceries and had assembled the ingredients for omelets.

"No food at your place; no food here. Where exactly did you stay while I was in Islip?"

McCoy looked up from the onion he was chopping, with amused indifference.

"You told me to get out, so I got out."

"And went where," she shot back shamelessly.

"I didn't think you cared."

"I didn't then, but I do now."

"Now I know why they say women are fickle,"he said with a sniker."I alternated between Clancy's for a late dinner on the way to the apartment and take out and sacking out at the office," he said, lightly smacking her backside with the spatula as she walked past him. "What about you and before you answer, I made the mistake of calling your brothers a few nights after you threw me out. I got an ear full about the example we were setting for Lindsay, so I know you weren't staying there."

"Yeah, you know, you're really going to have to help me find a woman for my brother," she commented as she added butter to the skillet heating on the stove. "The man needs to lighten up and start living again. It's been-"

"Where?"

"The office and every so often the Islip Inn, so I could take a proper bath and wash my hair," she replied, as she reached for the bowl that sat between them. "So you called my brother's? If I had known you were ready to _grovel_.."

"_I_ don't grovel," McCoy sputtered as he began pouring them each a glass of orange juice."Came by the loft to pick up my satchel. When I noticed there wasn't sign of you being here, I checked the mail and realized you hadn't been home in days. I called Andy to get a forwarding address. When I couldn't reach you, I stuck your mail in a manila envelope and sent to your office, because it seemed like the right thing to do."

"Actually," she admitted, her eyes never leaving the skillet."I got the envelope a few days after I'd come by to check the box. I thought about going by your place when, but…"

McCoy cocked his head, as he handed her a glass and waited.

"Ooh, we should make mimosas. A hair of the dog and all that," she said, suddenly handing him the spatula."I think we had a couple of champagne splits at the back of the fridge..."

As she rummaged through the refrigerator, McCoy grabbed her from behind. Having opted to wear something less formal than the yellow chiffon cocktail dress she had worn to the wedding the day before for their trip to the market, Malinowski had borrowed one of McCoy's demin shirts, a pair of jeans that had become tight on the DA, and a belt. The clothing hung loosely on her slender frame, making it easy for McCoy to reach under the outer wear to begin mercilessly tickling his lover.

"Either tell me now or I'm going for your feet next."

"Jack! Stop it! You're going….going to….make me drop the bottles," she gasped while she held onto two glass bottles in one hand and tried to unsuccessfully fight him off with the other.

"Then out with it," he demanded as a hand quickly gripped then released a bottle.

As he applied his cool hand to her midriff Malinowski gasped again, her body shocked yet stirred, by the coolness of his hand as it began to drift lower.

"All right! But, only because the eggs are going to burn," she exclaimed as she set the bottles down and leaned into his embrace. "I thought about coming by your place, but since I was the one that sent you away, I thought there was a chance…I thought whatever I might walk in on, I asked for it by throwing you out."

His eyes widened in confusion, as his attention to her response had been divided by his effort to smoothly slip the omelet out of the pan and onto the plate in tact; McCoy wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"Wow, Jack that's some omelet," she said staring at the six egg creation that was stuffed with an assortment of chopped vegetables, cheeses, and ham. "That's huge! I don't think I've seen one this big before."

"Sounds like something you said last night," he said with a cocky grin, not quite dodging the hand that reached out to smack his arm. "I thought we could share it, rather than spend time making another. What did you mean by whatever you might walk in, you asked for? What could you possibly..."

Malinowski tossed a fork in his direction as, her face grew red.

"What do you think? I threw you out. Technically, you'd of had every right to see yourself as a free man and to act accordingly."

"Oh, you thought you'd walk in on one of those famous McCoy sex orgies," he said smacking his forehead.

"If you weren't so cute when you decided to play wiseass, you'd be annoying," she retorted as completed the task of making the drinks."Go make yourself useful and start the fire, while I set this stuff on the coffee table and pull out the hide a bed."

McCoy's eyes widened as he swallowed a bite of the omelet.

"I don't know if you're just insatiable or you've just hit on a pleasurable way to subsidize your meager salary as a lowly public servant."

Malinowski laughed softly as she completed her tasks. She found the little game of 'Call girl and John' they had played the night before not only amusing, but surprisingly exciting. Just thinking about the way they had been together only hours before made her moist with anticipation for more.

"Why don't you bring your sexy little ass over here and find out," she asked as she suggestively ran her fingers along the wide V of the oversized shirt, "and be sure not to forget your wallet."

"I thought the customer was the one that made those kinds of demands," he retorted as he finished with the fire and moved to join her.

After taking a long pull on his mimosa, McCoy set the glass down and moved within a few inches of her.

"You're sure you don't have other clients waiting," he asked, his voice low and raspy, as he undid the belt that hung loosely around her hips.

The belt hit the wood floor; immediately after the jeans fell in a pile at her feet. As she stepped out of them, Malinowski moved even closer to him, her hardened nipples brushing against the warmth of his chest.

"I told you, I have a very select client list," she replied as she led him to the sofa bed."I don't like to be rushed when I do business. I pride myself on my clients leaving _completely_ satisfied."

McCoy closed his eyes as memories of their lovemaking flowed through his mind. Neither of them had showered yet, the plan being to eat and then make use of the larger bathroom in the loft. The smell of her perfume laced with sex, made his spent body hunger for her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Malinowski began to unbutton his shirt. McCoy reached for her, kissing her with sudden lustful abandonment. As he heard her moan, he laid her down on the bed. His hands rached under the short, then slipped inside her panties and finally settled on her slit which already rich with her own juices.

"Humm. I just realized how well your name suits you," he said, keeping a straight face as he saw Malinowski bite her tongue in an effort to keep from breaking the mood, by laughing out loud.

"As well as your name suits_ you_, John," she deadpanned while she held his gaze and slipped off his shirt. "I must admit, you're the first client to have this effect on me. Usually I use artificial techniques to shall we say…_ ensure_…that I'm ready for work. After all, a professional sex provider knows it all about the client's desires."

"That may be true of your other clients," he whispered as he pushed the oversized shirt out of the way, to give him free access to her outer lips and what lay beneath them.

McCoy ran his hands up the inside of her thighs, his fingers parting her lips to unveil her glistening cunt.

"Yes," he said suggestively as a feather light finger traced a path from her mound passed her clitoris and over her vaginal opening. "Brooke, is the perfect name for a woman like you."

Before she could match his verbal foreplay, she cried out with pleasure as his mouth replaced his finger. His lips and tongue ravished her softness, soreness turned to an ache she longed to fill with him.

"A woman like me, John," she breathed as struggled to keep the motion of her lower body at a moderate pace.

McCoy gave her a lecherous grin, as he gazed briefly upward.

"A woman that responds so eagerly, obviously pleases her partner best, when she herself has been pleased," he answered before returning the task at hand.

"Oh God…maybe I should be paying_ you_," Malinowski moaned as her hips lifted off the mattress. "I heard you had a sharp tongue, but..."

Unable to complete her sentence, Malinowski felt her back arch as she closed her eyes. For the next several minutes her world seemed to solely consist of the sensations induced by McCoy's skillful mouth and hands as they brought her the brink of physical ecstasy only to teasingly deny her.

Aroused beyond sensibility, she wrapped her legs around his neck, bringing his head downward. As he gave into her unspoken request, waves of pleasure enveloped her.

"Oh God, let me fuck you," she begged, her hands clawing at the top sheet imaging it was him her fingers dug into.

McCoy shook his head, unwilling to be distracted from his goal. Her cries of pleasure pleasing and arousing him at the same time. As much as he wanted to pounce on her more than willing body and find the release his still confined penis was insisting on, he was determined to make the session of love making solely about pleasing his partner. A partner whose body he was sure needed the intense, yet yielding touch only his soft, warm mouth could provide.

He waited until her spasms were no more, until the sound of his name went from pleading moans of bliss, to a soft whisper of adoration before lifting his head and pushing himself upward to hold her.

She opened her eyes as she felt his arms around her. Smiling up at him, she ran a finger over his shiny lips, before gently kissing the residue of her passion away.

"I thought you were hungry," she said, her eyes falling on the forgotten plate a few feet away.

"I was," he said kissing her once more before reaching towards the coffee table. "Now that I've feasted on you, I'm ready to satisfy my other appetites."

Malinowski propped herself up after moving under the covers. When her lover returned, she took several bites of the omelet he offered…alternating fork filled bites between his mouth and hers.

"Thirsty?"

Nodding, Malinowski held his face as she kissed him full on the lips. McCoy grinned at her as he traded the nearly empty plate for a glass.

"You spoil me," she said after sipping the drink that he offered."Not only breakfast in bed, but bliss as well. You know Jack, it does seem a bit one sided."

"You always did have a habit of painting me as the selfless martyr," he replied with a smirk. "It's not even nine yet. Well have all day; there are some things that shouldn't be rushed. Besides, we gave each other a pretty intense workout last night. Give me ten minutes in the shower to loosen those stiff muscles you're responsible for and I'll be ready to give you a proper welcome home."

Malinowski set the empty glass beside the sofa and ran a finger over his shoulder and down towards his left nipple.

"Maybe you should let me give you a sponge bath?"

"Only if you let me give you a massage first," he countered as he felt her fingers reach for his zipper.

Before she could reply the sound of the intercom buzzer caused the couple to jump.

"Who even knows we're here," Malinowski asked as she watched McCoy make his way toward the box beside the door.

"Maybe one of your other 'John's' tracked you down," he quipped as he pressed a button. "Yes?"

"Dad? Can you buzz me in?"

The sound of Rebecca McCoy's voice was enough send both lovers crashing back down to reality. McCoy automatically zipped his jeans, as his eyes darted around the room looking for his discarded shirt. Malinowski leaped out of the hide a bed as if she'd been shot out of a cannon and immediately began folding it back into place.

"You said Sham dropped her at the train station last night," she hissed.

Shrugging his shoulders, McCoy turned his attention back to the intercom.

"Sure honey, come on up," he said as he hit the sensor to open the lobby door.

By the time McCoy had his shirt on and the breakfast dishes were soaking in the sink, Malinowski was on her way to seek refuge in the bathroom. The EADA for Suffolk county feeling like a college co-ed who was on the verge of getting caught in her boyfriend's dorm room well after curfew.

"Brooke, we're well past the age of consent," McCoy said as he moved the coffee table back into place, tossing Malinowski the pair of panties that peeked out from under the sofa."You don't have to hide..."

"Do I need to remind you that your daughter is less than thrilled with me right now," she snapped as she made one last scan of the room. "Not only does she think I'm some two timing tart after seeing me with Mike yesterday, but I hit her, remember? Now take her to breakfast so I can get out of here."

"This is ridiculous. First of all, I just had breakfast. Secon-," he began as the doorbell rang.

"Damn it Jack, just take her for coffee then! I don't care how you do it, just _get rid of her_, "she hissed before closing the door behind her.


	15. Chapter 15

.McCoy shook his head in disbelief and turned to open the door. Noticing the ivory clutch bag, he scooped it off the counter and impatiently looked around the room. As the bell rang again, he tossed the bag in the freezer out of sheer frustration, before opening the door.

"I thought you took the train home last night," McCoy inquired while exchanging dutiful pecks with his child.

"No Dad," Rebecca said patiently as she slipped her coat and hat onto the rack."I had my car, remember? I_ took_ Mr. and Mrs. Stone to the train. I stayed at Mom's place last night. I told her I'd water the plants and bring in the mail, since she's out of town. What? No coffee?"

McCoy followed his daughter towards the kitchen and watched as she filled the empty coffee pot with water.

"Still celebrating after last night?"

McCoy followed her disapproving gaze to the two empty champagne bottles that lay next to the skillet.

"It's not every day true love triumphs over adversity," McCoy hedge,d as he began nervously rinsing the items in the sink."To what do I owe the honor of a visit on a Sunday before noon?"

"I wanted to talk to you about yesterday...about what's going on with you and Brooke," she said uncomfortably. "I was going to take you to breakfast to talk about it, but it looks like you've already eaten."

McCoy followed her gaze to the skillet that rested on the stove.

"Got an early start this morning. I can offer you eggs if you like," he said automatically; immediately regretting his words. "On second thought, maybe we..."

"Eggs sound good," she replied and began rummaging through the refrigerator. "You have everything ready for omelets."

McCoy could almost hear the string of curse words he knew were being muttered in the bathroom, as he watched his daughter return the bowl containing the leftovers from the first batch of omelets, along with the remaining eggs.

"Eggs it is, but as far as discussing my relationship with Brooke..."

"Did you two talk at all after I left?"

"Yes, we were sort of thrown together. But..."

"Did she tell you why she hit me," Rebecca asked as she busied herself with preparing the eggs.

"We didn't get that far," he replied as he glanced towards the bathroom door.

McCoy remembered the brief mention his lover made to the conflict before they left the reception. When they were dancing he'd been tempted to press her for the details; not so much as to defend his only child's actions, more to prepare himself for the eventual confrontation that would transpire between himself and his daughter over the scene.

One of the criticisms that had been a constant over the years was his ex wife's complaint that McCoy remained too lenient with his child; that he left his Ex to play the bad guy. He knew she'd been right. Even at her worst, McCoy simply could not bring himself to lay a hand on his child. Not even when he knew she needed it the most. Memories of corporal punishment used as an excuse for violent retribution for his own minor infractions as a child kept him from giving his daughter more than a disapproving stare ora sharp reprimand. The most serious punishment he ever given his daugther was the silent treatment; a strategy that had backfired by started a years long silence between them, the last time he'd used it.

While he had flinched when he saw the bright red mark on Rebecca's face; he knew it was there for a reason. A reason he was almost afraid to guess at.

When Malinowski alluded to telling Rebecca she didn't 'fuck the men' she slept with, the DA had more than clue as to what had been said to incite such a harsh response.

"Well, I provoked her. Becky explained."I said some pretty awful things. After she came in with that Mike guy... well... I thought..."

"Becky, you'll never know how much it means to me that you want to defend me, especially after our last battle. But Brooke and Mike LaSalle? Trust me, there's nothing going on there that I can't deal with."

The young woman nodded her head, as she handed her father a mug of the freshly brewed coffee.

"I know," she admitted, with more than a little shame. "Ms. Green-Stone told me that…well it sounds like you already figured it out. She told me Brooke just brought that guy to show you up if you brought some bim- I mean... a date... with you to the wedding. God, I can't believe the things I said. Dad, I'm sorry. I made a bad situation worse and you're the one that's probably going to pay for it."

McCoy finished drying his hands before handing his daughter a freshly washed plate. While he was more than anxious to return to his lover and the pleasures of their private reconciliation, he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard the words 'I'm sorry' come from his daughter's lips and he found the sound touching.

Torn between desire and curiosity, he picked up their coffee cups and sat them on the bar, before taking a seat beside his daughter.

"Brooke and I left on good terms last night," he said, a fleeting smile forming as he thought about the gross understatement he'd made. "If you're concerned about her being upset with you, I suspect she understands why you said the things you did, more than you think."

"She loves you Dad," Rebecca said firmly as she began eating. "For her to go to that kind of trouble…I mean the last time I tried to make a guy jealous like that was in junior high school. You have to make things right."

"Listen, Becky..."

"No, _you_ listen, Dad. After she slapped me, Brooke said something about neither one of us being able to take her self respect. Now, I know what she meant when she was talking about me. I'm not so sure I know what she meant when she was talking about you," she said, her eyes narrowing as her eyes fell on the empty champagne bottles, once more. "Dad, if you…is there something going on with you and another woman?"

"Of course not," he barked without hesitation, seconds before the faint but steady sound of music could be heard.

McCoy froze, while his daughter looked around the room, trying to place the source of the sound.

"Dad, why is your freezer ringing," she asked with amusement as she moved to open the freezer door.

McCoy glanced at the bathroom door, knowing the call could be from one of Malinowski's ADA's. Belatedly, he tried to block his daughter, mumbling something about letting voice mail get the call, but it was too late.

Rebecca stared at the small handbag, then at the fire in the fireplace, then finally, accusingly, at her father.

"You son of a bitch," she said throwing the handbag at her McCoy."No wonder Brooke threw you out! What are you even _doing_ here? Bringing women to the home you made with her? Who is it Dad? Some bimbo you picked up at the reception? What did you do Dad? Invite one of your old girlfriends back here to help you make it through the night?"

"Rebecca Eileen," he snapped as he fumbled through the bag. "That's enough!"

"What wrong? Are you afraid the _slut_ will hear me," she said, deliberately raising her voice as she started towards the bathroom.

"McCoy," he said automatically, while he tried to intercept his daughter while at the same time, answer Malinowski's cell phone. "…no. _No_, you have the right number. She's here… Just…just a minute!"

"Get your clothes on and get out here," Rebecca demanded as she banged her fist on the bathroom door."Denise? Vanessa? Erica? Whoever you are, you have a phone call!"

As the door slowly opened, Rebecca stepped back stunned. Malinowski appeared, fresh from a soundless sponge bath and clad in a pair of her own jeans and a sweater.

"Becky, I..."

"Brooke, before you two start, you better take this. One of your ADA's just caught a case and there's a problem," he said as he handed her the phone. "It sounds bad."

"So, does this mean you two are back together," Rebecca whispered as McCoy ushered her back towards the kitchen. "Is the wedding on again?"


	16. Chapter 16

McCoy hesitated, unsure of the answer. As much as he knew what he wanted the answer to be, the fact neither of them had brought up the future had not been lost on him. He knew they'd cleared an emotional hurdle the night before, but if they were both ready to take the next step...of that he wasn't as certain.

Through the passionate playfulness of their banter and love making, he was as sure of her love as he was of the love he felt for her, although neither had expressed their love for one another out right.

What he knew for certain was the connection they shared was stronger than ever. They had made through more than one rough patch intact. His cold feet had been warmed once again by her loving touch and quiet humor; her insecurities put to rest by his obvious desire for her and the safety of waking once more in his protective embrace.

"What it means is, you can stop worrying about your old man and enjoy what's left of your weekend," he replied as he heard Malinowski's cellphone snap shut.

"Sorry about that," the EADA added as she joined them. "Listen, Becky. I'm not proud of what happened..."

Rebecca shook her head as she held up her hand.

"Neither am I. But I don't think we should get into it now. I can see you two need some time to yourselves, so I'll just..."

"You don't have to go," the older woman said as she looked down at the half eaten omelet. "It's miserable out there. Finish your breakfast and keep your Dad company while I make a few phone calls. Maybe the three of us can catch a matinee or..."

"I need to get back home," Rebecca responded as moved towards the coat rack. "Besides, you've seen me act like a five year old not once, but twice, in twenty four hours. I know you're too polite to say it, but I'm sure you've reached your limit and to be honest, I'm sick of me too."

As the three of them chuckled, McCoy watched as the two women embraced and exchanged whispered words that ended in more embraces and finally kisses on each other's cheek. It had taken months before Rebecca the adolescent had allowed Claire Kincaid the honor of such an embrace.

McCoy smiled as he thought of the delight that moment had brought his young lover. He could still remember the look of pure joy on her face as she held his child for the first time. He remembered how sullen and withdrawn his daughter become when only weeks afterwards they watched his beloved's coffin as it was lowered into the ground…

"I love you, Dad," she said as she reached for McCoy. "I'll call you when I get back to Portland."

"Ilove you too, honey. You know, you could leave the car and take the train," McCoy offered as another bolt of lightning off set more thunder. "I could bring it up next weekend and..."

"The weather channel said the storm is centered around the city. If it's still bad when I get out of Manhattan, I'll stop somewhere and wait it out," she replied as she gave her father an appraising look.

"What?"

"Just…just …be happy Dad," she said as she impulsively kissed him once more, before disappearing out the door.

"Alone at last," McCoy began as he closed the door and turned to find his lover all ready opening her phone. "How bad is it?"

"Bad," Malinowski replied. "Burglary gone bad. Looks like the homeowners surprised the burglars late last night and got shot for their trouble. Apparently the security camera caught them fleeing the scene. They hijacked a cab almost six hours ago. Cab's been found. One of the two has been picked up and wants a deal. Get this: He wants a walk to give up his partner and lead the cops to the cabby. For a walk. Hello Michael, it's Brooke…"


	17. Chapter 17

McCoy's mind flashed back to a late night visit from his then assistant, Jamie Ross, as he listened to Malinowski's end of the conversation with DA Michael Jackowicz. The conversation involved another hostage and another offender's outrageous deal for a walk. As a prosecutor McCoy knew the deal would set a deadly precedent if made; yet it was a deal the mising man's spouse saw as a life line for her husband.

He still could hear the sound of Ruth Titus's voice…

_"What if it was your husband or your wife…,"_ the proud black woman demanded of himself and Jamie Ross, hours after her husband had been kidnapped by Henry Harp and his accomplice.

He still wished she'd been right. McCoy still wished that the cabby had been found alive and well. He still wished the extra time he had instructed Ross to give the cops to find the cabby had been enough. He still had no regrets about playing fast and loose with his ethics and his morals, as well as the law. Ensuring that murdering bastard Henry Harp had to answer for his crimes, seemed worth any price, at the time.

As much as it still pained him when he thought of the look of disillusionment defense attorney Sally Bell's eyes; being responsible for putting that look on the face of his former lover still seemed like a small price to pay to see Harp get the punishment he deserved.

"…I told Brody to cite _Harp_, as well as _Jacobs_," McCoy heard his lover reply, "His damn PD should know a deal like that won't fly in New York state, especially after the Jacobs case… Agreed. I'll keep you posted."

"Now I feel my age," McCoy said as he hobbled with her to the sofa."When an attorney hears his cases cited like old standards from law school..."

"It should be music to his hears," she finished. "If I didn't have them to cite I'd be at a loss Jack. We both know that cabby was dead as soon as those guys got in the car. There's no way I can deal. Not that I'd want to. If we still had the death penalty in this state, I'd have a needle in this guy's arm faster than you could say 'appeal'."

"Death penalty cases are tough Brooke. Have you ever sat through an execution," he asked as he slipped his arm around her. "I have and I can think of more pleasant experiences."

Malinowski nodded. She remembered the Mickey Scott case. Not only because of the irony the papers noted the next day, when Claire Kincaid died due to her injuries from a car crash, but because it was one of the last executions carried out in the state.

"Once. Clint Renard and I prosecuted the Connetquot Park rapist back in the early nineties," she said thoughtfully gazing at the fireplace. "It was my first capital case. Small potato's compared to some of your cases, but- "

"Raping and gutting fourteen women in six months is hardly small potato's," McCoy retorted as he recalled the case. "You went with Renard to watch the execution?"

"Yeah. Went and got drunker that night. Drunker than I have before or since," she said as a chill ran down her spine. "All that Catechism and every hail Mary's seemed pretty inconsequential after seeing that. I'd been on the fence about the church since _Roe v Wade_. After the execution, I pretty much excommunicated myself."

"Thou shalt not kill takes on a whole different meaning when you prosecute someone like that," McCoy responded as he watched her add another log to the fire.

He remembered his false bravado the day of the Scott execution. Bravado, he'd thought at the time, he was showing to reassure Kincaid. Bravado he had later come to realize he'd used to push aside his own sense of guilt and confusion about having a hand in the death of another person.

"Did you drink alone or did Clint keep an eye on you?"

Malinowski turned from the fire with a start. She scanned McCoy's face, the question instantly making her wary that what was left of their morning could be tainted by the start of yet another confrontation.

What she saw make her visibly relax before she returned to his waiting arms. His face was interested not accusing, this eyes holding an understanding only another prosecutor who'd faced the same ordeal could have.

"When we got back to the office, Jackowicz took us down to The Barrister. Even though the three of us agreed the death penalty was a fitting punishment...I mean one look at the autopsy photos and even the biggest advocate against the death penalty would have wanted to see a needle in this guys arm… all that a side Michael knew it was going to be rough for both of us. I downed shots until a passed out…I was told later I passed out and in Michael's arms. Luckily for both of us, his wife is a saint. The next morning I woke up in his guest room and his wife, Ruth, tried to nurse me back to health with her homemade soup."

"God I wish now that I had let Adam take me to lunch that day," McCoy whispered."If I had, I wouldn't have been in that bar...I wouldn't have been waiting for …"

"Claire?"

Malinowski sighed as she ran her hand over the stubble that begged to be shaved on McCoy's face. She watched him nod as he closed his eyes. While she silently cursed herself for not anticipating this turn in the conversation, she also felt closer to him knowing the subject was one that McCoy usually discussed with only the select few that remained from that night.

"She was a lucky woman," she whispered as she put her arms around him and pressed herself against his chest. "She knew it too, Jack. She had your love. It doesn't get better than that."

"Sometimes I can't help but miss her…I can't help but wonder how it all would have turned out," he said softly, his head resting against her shoulder. "What kind of lawyer she would have grown into…whether she would have stayed with the DA's office…whether she would have stayed…"

"With you," she asked stoking his hair, much as a mother does trying to comfort a frightened child. "Only Claire herself can answer that. All I can tell you is; you're a man who loves a woman well. A man who loves a woman well in _all_ the ways that count. Claire knew that. I know that. Don't you forget that, Jack."

"You'll always have my love Brooke," he said before gently kissing her cheek.

"As you'll always have mine, Jack," she said softly as she ran a hand over his face once more. "You know, if you're willing to give me another chance, I really _could_ give you a smooth shave and not play any games this time."

McCoy leaned back and thoughtfully considered the idea, a slow smile forming as he recalled the first time he had agreed to trust his lover with a the dreaded blade.

"You think you have time? What about your murdering kidnapper?"

Malinowski shrugged her shoulders, as she turned to look out the window at the downpour.

"Not much I can do until I hear back from the ADA on the case. Like I said, I couldn't deal this down even if I wanted to. The verdict in _Jacobs_ sealed the deal on plea bargains made under duress to find a hostage. If this guy is smart, he'll settle for not adding another murder count to the indictment and help the cops find his partner and the hostage. Even if he's not so smart, Jackowicz himself said if the guy doesn't talk to walk away from the table and threaten to add a count of hindering prosecution to the indictment."

"And Michael can live with the fallout from the voters if it turns out the driver was alive and your office wouldn't deal, "McCoy asked with genuine interest.

He knew even his beloved mentor and friend Adam Schiff had on occasion wavered under the weight of political pressure under such dire circumstances. The Harp case was one of the few examples that quickly came to mind. At the time, McCoy could sense how torn his boss had been; all involved knowing how unlikely it was a hostage who had seen the faces of his captors would be allowed to live, yet knowing there was a moral obligation to waver if there was even the slimmest of chances the hostage could be alive. Even the seasoned politician Arthur Branch, had at times found the pull of political correctness verses bitter experience hard to balance, on occasion.

"You forget, Michael's old than father time," she responded with a knowing smile. "People can't remember a time when he wasn't DA. That buys him a lot of political capital. Besides, I suspect losing the next election would be a mixed blessing for him. It would give him an excuse to spend more time with his grandchildren and less time those rubber chicken dinners."

McCoy caught he hand as she started to get up and gently brought her to rest in his lap.

"What about you? You really think you can focus on pampering me while you have a felon on the loose back in Islip?"

Malinowski shook her head. Sometimes she wondered why she even tried to get anything by a man who was not only so savvy about the law and its ramifications, but a man who seemed to know how to read her so well.

"You know part of me want to jump on the next train out there, but we both know it wouldn't change anything," she replied as she leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips before starting a trail of kisses from his jaw line to just behind his left ear.

_God, just the smell of him__ makes me wish this day would never end_, she thought as she took a deep breath. McCoy had yet to take that shower she knew he desired so. Yet the smell of yesterday's cologne, combined with the scent of their lovemaking and the warmth of his skin caused her to tingle with anticipation.

"Besides," she continued as she felt his hand slip underneath her sweater, "this is Brody's case, not mine. You, Mr. McCoy, have_ got_ to learn how to delegate."

McCoy chuckled as he recalled those same words coming from his former assistant's lips almost forty eight hours before.

"What's so funny," Malinowski asked as she leaned closer to her lover, attempting to fill the curious hand that rested on her breast.

"Connie said the same thing when I asked for an update on the Manning/Steele trial."

"Manning/Steele trial," she repeated her eyes wide with surprise. The double homicide that appeared more and more to have begun as a pissing contest between teenagers over a ball, was sensational enough to have received prominent press coverage that Malinowski had read about it while she was on her extended stay in Islip "Cutter decided to try them together?"

McCoy shifted uncomfortably, his hand unconsciously slipping away from its task.

"Cutter made the decision…after I gave him a little nudge in that direction."

"Nudge?"

"Nudge…well…maybe push is more accurate."

"I hope you know what you're doing," his lover responded as her cellphone began to ring. "You put white as the driven snow Sally Homemaker Mom on trial with black as midnight Angry Urban Dad and she walks…Jesus Jack…you could have a riot on your hands that shuts the whole damn city down."


	18. Chapter 18

Malinowski's words still echoed in the back of his mind as he closed the bathroom door. After listening for a few seconds to her end of the conversation, McCoy knew there had been a change in the case of the missing cabby. Realizing his lover needed privacy, he had slipped into the bathroom to seize the opportunity to take his long awaited shower.

After turning the shower facets to the on position, McCoy began stripping off his clothing. Still pleasantly befuddled by the amazing turn of events over the course of the last twenty four hours, McCoy picked up his electric razor and paused as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over one of the pedestal sinks.

It wasn't the first time his resemblance to his father caught his attention. Critically, he assessed the laugh lines that seemed more pronounced than the last time he'd studied them. He shook his head at the head of hair that seemed, to McCoy, to have gone from dark to light overnight.

_It's the grey_, he told himself as he began to run the razor over his face. _Maybe if I broke down and bought some of that men's hair dye, I'd look less like **him**…_

The eyes that used to hold a look that challenging charm, looked back at him world weary and amused.

_Stop it. I'm not him…_he told himself as he had countless other times when the memories snuck back to the forefront of his mind. _When my was your age, he was used up with too much drink and a lung __full of cancer…When he was my age a woman like Brooke wouldn't have given him a second gl__ance, much less made love with him… not the way she did most of last__ night… God, no wonder the lines look so bad this morning...When was my age, Mom was already gone. The one woman he loved…the woman he held onto so tightly he destroyed them both…_

"Hell, I should just be glad I still_ have_ hair, the color be damned," he said to himself, a smile forming on his lips as he thought of his former boss Arthur Branch, while attempting to shake the ghosts from his thoughts and to focus on the present.

"Damn. When I saw you come in here, I thought you might beat me to it,"Malinowski said as she took the razor from her lover's hand.

"I'll make it up to you next weekend," he said as turned to face her. "I figured you might be tied up for a while, so I decided to make good use of the time. You know what they say about idle hands."

Malinowski gave him a suggestive grin, as her eyebrows raised while she looked her naked lover up and down.

"You're sure you want to get me started again? A remark like that could lead us back to where we started," she inquired as she pulled her sweater over her head.

"You know you don't have the time," the countered as he pulled her close, his hand slipping underneath the waistband of her jeans. "From what I heard, it sounded like you might be catching a train after all."

"On the contrary, the crisis is over, at least until Monday morning at eight a m when the murdering bastard gets arraigned," she said with false bravado as the bright smile she hoped would hide her dismay, began to quiver.

McCoy nodded as his teasing hand peeked out of her jeans and ran back up to her shoulder.

"They found the cabby," he stated, more than asked, as he ran his fingers over her hair. "You made the right call. How long had he been dead?"

"M E will have a better idea later today," she said as a tear ran down her cheek. "Damn it Jack, I've been doing this almost twenty years and I still can't distance myself. Every time we lose a victim…especially like this... it just seems so useless. God, why couldn't those bastards of just wore masks or knocked the guy out? Why…"

"You know there isn't always an answer. I stopped asking why after I prosecuted my first child rapist," he whispered as he lifted her chin to and began to kiss her tears away.

Looking in her eyes he saw what he'd seen in the eyes of Ron Carver, Tracey Kibre, Alexandra Cabot, as well as a handful of others that had passed through the DA's office during his tenure. It was what made the difference between a good prosecutor and a born prosecutor.

It was a look of bewildered outrage. It was the silent assurance that this prosecutor wouldn't forget the victim in her search for the truth.

"The day I stop asking why is the day I leave my office and never go back," she countered as she stepped back; her hands hurriedly wiping away her remaining tears."I'm so sorry. I so sorry Jack. I don't want to …I want us to have our day without anything else spoiling it."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. We both know this world has as much good in it, as it does evil," McCoy said solemnly. "When you have to face that evil, you'll do it ready to beat it. Mask on, weapons sharp. Right now, you're not in the arena.Right now you're a woman talking to the man who loves her; not a prosecutor talking to a colleague. You're the woman I love and part of the job description is I get to wipe away your tears, so stop apologizing and let me do my job."

Malinowski smiled up at him before kissing him full on the lips.

"I don't know how I managed all these years without you," she whispered before turning her attention to the steamy shower. "Poor baby. If you don't get in there soon, you'll have to shower with only cold water."

"In that case," McCoy quipped as he unhooked her bra and abruptly raised her off the ground. "It's only fair that you come in and keep me warm."

"Jack don't you dare," she shreiked, as the now lukewarm water sprayed over her.

She hardly noticed he had removed her now soaked jeans and panties while she focused on turning on cold water off ,in an effort to bring the temperature back up.

McCoy gave her a devilish grin as he moved his soapy hands over her torso, a distant voice in the back of her mind setting off alarms that began to grow stronger.

"Jack, stop..."she began as her body started to shake and her throat began to tighten, while her mind took her back to a place she had foolish thought she'd forgotten.

"Not until I wash you from head to toe," McCoy playful threatened, as his hands moved lower.

Malinowski closed her eyes and opened her mouth, trying to fill her lungs. The very last thing she wanted to do was let on to McCoy what was happening. They'd come so far in such a short time…

_Oh God why now_, she silently demanded, as she leaned against the shower wall, much as she had that night…at least she'd thought it was night…when the one called Dmitri had carried her into the shower to rape her…

She could feel her lovers mouth against her lips. As his tongue did its familiar dance, Malinowski focused on suppressing the instinctual gag reflex that fought to expel him. As she felt a new set of tears begin to fall she cursed her lack of control and opened her eyes.

Watching McCoy as he lavished attention on her body, watching his loving attempt to distract her from a dead cabby in Long Island, it was obvious he had no idea how much distress she was in. She knew it was likely he'd chalked her trembling up to the barely warm water. She knew if he caught on…if he realized his actions had traumatized her…he blame himself and they'd lose not only the magic of their special day, but most likely they'd also the intimacy they had worked so hard to regain since her kidnapping.

"Brooke," he said as he opened his eyes. "Are you alright? You're white as a sheet. What's wrong?"

"Cold," she managed to croak as her trembling graduated to a violent round of uncontrollable shaking. "Sssso cccold…"

McCoy immediately shut off the remaining water and reached for a towel. As he tried to wrap her in the cloth, she shook her head and took the towel from him before reaching for one of the two terry cloth robes that rested on the door of the bathroom. As he watched her moved towards the bed in the other room, McCoy shook his head and began to dry himself while he replayed the events of the last few minutes over in his mind.


	19. Chapter 19

By the time she opened her eyes the clock by the bed read 2:37. She could tell from the stillness of the loft the storm outside had finally started to die down. Only the faintest sound of water running from the roof to the drain pipe could be heard as the fire in the fireplace continued to steadily burn.

Malinowski reached for the now cool cup of tea on the night table, before turning to see the other side of the bed was empty. The last thing she remembered was McCoy's worried face as he tucked her into bed just before noon.

"Jack?"

Hearing no response, Malinowski slipped out of bed and picked up the robe that lay at the foot of the bed. On her way to the kitchen, she glanced at the desk, the coffee table and finally the counter, looking for some kind of message from her lover. She smiled to herself upon finding a still warm pot of tea waiting for her beside the coffee pot; a ham sandwich on a plate beside a clean tea cup.

"Oh Jack," she whispered thoughtfully.

She hadn't meant to sleep so long. She'd hoped a quick nap would refresh as well as calm her, without giving McCoy too much time to put the puzzle together. How she wanted to recapture the playfulness of the night before…to please him, to love him, to spend the remainder of the day thinking of nothing but the here and now.

Tears came to her eyes while she thoughtfully alternated between sandwich and tea. After everything…the mess with Samantha Weaver that had brought them together in the first place, that ridiculous law suit against her after the shooting, Sam returning from the dead, as well as her divorce and McCoy getting stabbed when he dealt with that lunatic Esparza…not to mention that stupid Vanessa Galiano and the trouble she stirred up…

as well as Malinowski's kidnapping and its aftermath.

After all of that that they needed…no… they_ deserved_ one day of uninterrupted bliss.

"What a fool I was. What a fool I was to have even thought about throwing you out of the loft …throwing you out of my life," she said quietly as she wiped her eyes."Damn it Jack, where did you go?"

As she reached to check the answer phone…to see if perhaps McCoy had gotten a message from one of his underlinks while she slept… just as she heard a sound coming from the bathroom.

When she opened the bathroom door, her heart ached at the image she saw. McCoy was sitting on the lid of the commode. His tear filled eyes staring at the preparations he'd made while she slept. The free standing tub was filled with lavender scented bubble bath. Candles on every surface lit the room and a glass of what appeared to be champagne sat beside the portable CD player.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself, sleepy head," he replied as he stood.

First he impatiently wiped his eyes, then reached for her and as if reminding himself of something, changed course by pulling back .

"What's all this?"

"You jumped out of the shower so fast, you didn't have much of a chance to rise off," he began as he sat back down."I thought you might like to get the rest of the soap residue off. This time in the tub. Alone. Uninterrupted."

Malinowski nodded as she bent down in front of him, taking his hands in hers.

"You are not only the most loving and thoughtful man on the planet, you're also far too perceptive for your own good," she replied as she kissed his cheek."I know you know Jack and it wasn't your fault."

"And you're far to stoic, love. You said something. I can't believe I was so thoughtless," he said miserably."I knew..I saw the tape. You haven't gone near the shower since you came home…"

"Stop it, Jack," she said firmly. "I told you before not to let them win. It was a set back. It happened and it's over. It probably won't be the last one, but for now let's just focus on us. Can we do that Jack? No guilt, no soul searching. Can't be just be together?"

McCoy opened his mouth to protest, to continue verbally the silent berating he'd given himself before his lover had interrupted. The look in her eyes made him hesitate, deciding instead to stand and squeeze her hand.

"Take your bath. When you're finished we can..."

"Not without you."

"Brooke, you know that isn't a good idea."

"We've done it before and we were fine," she said, a note of stubborness creeping into her voice.

McCoy sighed as she removed first her robe, then the tee shirt and panties she had slept in. He couldn't help but let his eyes fall upon her body. A body so warm and inviting, so soft and exciting, a body that had been through so much more than the naked eye could see.

"I don't want to…can't you see…I can't bear to hurt you again," he whispered as he turned his eyes away from her, ashamed of the effect the sight of her was having on him. "It kills me to think..."

"Then don't think," she said turning his face back to her and placing his hand on her breast."Don't think about anything but us. Now, let me do what I've been dying to do all day. Let me make you feel as good as you made me feel his morning."

McCoy sighed softly as he ran a cautious hand over her breast, closing his eyes as her lips found his. As careful as he'd tried to be with her, times like the night before made him forget how fragile his lover still was. During their time apart, he had suspected it was that fragility had played a part in her reaction the night she'd told him to leave.

While Malinowski had been recovering in the hospital after her ordeal, McCoy had made a point of taking his friend and longtime colleague Liz Olivett to lunch. The lunch had served two purposes: The first was to retain Olivett's services if and when his lover decided to seek counseling. The second was to prepare himself to be able to give Malinowski whatever support she would need when she returned home.

Olivett had emphasized the importance of treating his lover like a 'whole' woman, as opposed to someone who was broken or damaged. Simple, easy sounding advice, on the surface. Simple, until she wanted him to make love to her. Then, for so long, the thing he feared most was inadvertently hurting her…triggering something that would take her back to that dark, frightening time…

"Jack, get in before the water gets cold again," she said softly as she discarded the last of his clothing and pressed the 'play' button on the CD player.

"I think we've set a record to day as far as how many times we've dress and undressed," he joked as he slipped into the tub.

"The maybe we should just give up and stay undressed until we have to go to work,"she countered as she joined him; carefully leaning her back against his chest.

For a moment the pair simply laid in each other's arms. Both of them leaning back and enjoying the warmth of the sweet smelling water, as well as the feel of their skin against one another. The sound of Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge singing _Help Me Make it Through the Night_ brought a smile to Malinowski's lips.

"I thought you said that was in your bedroom at the apartment?"

"It was. I stuck it in my pocket when we were getting ready to come back here."

"When you invited me to hear your recording of this last night, I thought you were just giving me a line," she with amusement as she turned her body around so has to be directly across from him, her legs slipping around his hips to draw him closer.

"A line? You mean you thought I just wanted to get you to my place so I could try to get you into bed," he said as he reached for the sponge and bath gel.

"Wait a minute," Malinowski said snatching the items from his hand."It's you turn to be pampered…that _is_ what you're paying me to do," she said with a playful gleam in her eye, "isn't it _John_?"

McCoy scratched his head as he grinned back at her, while she began to move the soapy sponge over his chest as she kissed his neck. As his chest became slick with lather, his breathing became more rapid and she substituted her breast for the sponge; the feel of her slick, hard nipples rubbing teasingly over him caused his libido to reawaken with surprising swiftness.

"I'm paying you to please me," he countered as he drew her to him. "Right now, kissing you would please me very much."

Malinowski moaned softly as he parted the lips of her mouth with an inquisitive tongue…he parted the lips below the water with an equally curious finger.

Determined to match her lover's desire to please, Malinowski reached below the water as well, McCoy's desire for her undeniable.

"Gee John, feels like you're going to make my job easy," she panted while her fingers continued to squeeze and rub his erect shaft.

"Now I know better than to take that to mean _you're_ easy, love," he shot back as he slipped a finger inside her.

Malinowski purred with pleasure as she first pressed her body back, then slowly, smoothly glided her body forward with the next thrust of his finger.

"More a tribute to your skill, rather than a comment on my easy virtue," she retorted as her hands pressed his backside forward."Although, I can think of something I'd like even better."

McCoy laughed softly as he removed his fingers before turning her so she remained on his lap, but faced away from him.

"I can't image what that might be," he whispered as his legs opened hers to allow his cock to slide between them.

"You know you're driving me crazy," she moaned as he thrust over her, taking care not to enter her.

"I told you something's shouldn't be rushed," he replied as one hand turned her face towards him, before returning to her hips. His lips claiming her mouth.

As they moved together the waves in the tub grew higher, the splash of the water louder. McCoy thought of carrying her to the bed to finish what they had begun, but after so many starts and stops, he was determined not to tempt fate by even momentarily breaking the mood.

In a move he cursed himself for not anticipating, his lover slipped her fingers over his balls, her gentle squeezes causing him to gasp and involuntarily thrust harder against her,

"You play dirty."

"I play to win," she gasped. "Like…like someone else I know."

Finally giving in, McCoy slipped inside his lover effortlessly, his thrusts long and deep. The withering of his lover's body against him adding to his satisfaction as he increased his tempo to fall into the same rhyme of Malinowski's contractions.

"Do you know how good you feel,he whispered, his heart racing as he felt her body stiffen while he ran his hands over her while his thrusted deeply, urgently, wanting as much of her as he could claim.


	20. Chapter 20

After blowing out the last candle Malinowski joined her lover on the sofa. The fire was burning low, the heat of the embers the only thing that kept the long spent remnants from dying out completely.

"Do you want a drink?"

McCoy shook his head as he pulled the blanket back, allowing her to snuggle under it with him.

"Don't need it,"he said while he put his arm around her shoulders"I'm intoxicated enough after a day of loving you."

"It has been quite a day," she agreed with a chuckle. "Too bad tomorrow's Monday. I would have liked to have had a do over, just to see if we could manage a day with zero interruptions."

"Speaking of do over's," McCoy countered suddenly serious as he met her amused gaze. "What do you say we talk about making things …exclusive...my girl?"

"Exclusive," Malinowski repeated, assuming McCoy was falling back into what seemed have become their game of choice. "Are you saying you want to be my…well...my _only_ John, Mr. McCoy?"

"Humm, I think you can call me Jack, after the day we've shared. Not to mention last night," he said suggestively before reaching a hand towards the end table beside him. "My sister sent this from Chicago while you were in Moscow. When I mentioned that the Canadians would have your ring indefinitely, Colleen thought you should have it."

Malinowski's eyes widened as McCoy placed the small black velvet box in her hand.

"Oh Jack. It's your grandmother's ring," she breathed as she stared down at the sparkling diamond that was at the center of the shiny silver ring.

"The ring we picked out is almost an exact replica of this one. I know it's not _your_ ring, but..."

"It's perfect," she declared as she watched him slip the ring out of the box and onto her finger. "You're sure your sister is really all right with this? I know it has sentimental value for her as well as..."

McCoy shook his head and kissed her hand.

"Colleen couldn't think of a better way to welcome you to the family. As much as I wish had thought of it, she sent the ring without any prompting from me. Her only request is that we take a drive up to Chicago so you can meet the rest of the family, after you officially become a McCoy."

"An official McCoy," she mused, her eyes still fixed on the sparkling ring. "Have you given any thought as to how you'd like to go about making that happen?"

"After what happened the last time I tried to be romantic, I think I'd be willing to try something less spontaneous and more expedient. If it wasn't a Sunday afternoon, I'd spirit you off to City Hall to get the license right now and then take you back to Centre Street and have Walter Bradley do the honors before the week was out," he said frankly. "I know the last time we talked about this you said you'd already had your big wedding the first time around. As for me, whether we get married in Saint Patty's Cathedral or the county clerk's office, I'll consider it a win if I can just make you my wife."

Malinowski nodded in agreement before turning to kiss his lips once more. As full as her heart felt at that moment; as much as she wanted the whole world to witness her becoming his wife at long last, she didn't want to wait a second longer than she had to. It was already the middle of May. Planning a big wedding would take at least another six months.

"Just tell me where and when counselor and I'll be there," she said as she began to frown.

"You don't look happy about it. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts? Or are you just having second thoughts about keeping it simple? Brooke, if you want a big wedding..."

Malinowski shook her head impatiently as she pointed at the family pictures that sat across them on the fireplace mantel.

"I don't want to wait another minute to marry you, Jack. But if we do it at city hall,_ you_ get to tell the girls. Lindsay and Becky were the main reasons we ruled out city hall the last time," she reminded him.

McCoy let out a sigh as he leaned against the back of the sofa.

"This is one dilemma too many to deal with," he joked as he rose."Maybe I _do_ need a drink."

Malinowski followed him across the room, shaking her head when he reached for a second glass after opening a bottle of Dewar's.

"I'll be more than impressed if you can find a solution to_ this_ dilemma at the bottom of a scotch bottle," she teased.

"In that case, prepare yourself to be impressed," he countered smugly, as he took as sip of the liquor. "After the go around you two had yesterday…not to mention the conclusions she jumped to with me this morning… Becky will rest easier just knowing we finally made things legal. As for Lindsay, maybe you were too enthralled by your date to notice, but Lindsay _was_ one of Dani's attendants yesterday."

Malinowski gave him a wide grin as she took the glass from his hand.

"What woman wouldn't be enthralled with a guy like Mike LaSalle," she said with a chuckle as she blocked McCoy's attempt to grab her. "No! Let's stay focused on the problem at hand. Your point was…besides the fact Mike LaSalle got under your skin?"

"LaSalle gets on my nerves, not under my skin," he began as he reclaimed the glass and leaned against the bar,"My point _was_ Lindsay helped Dani choose the flowers, the dresses, all those things young women seem to enjoy so much. If we can find away to have the girls at the ceremony, I'll bet she and Becky both would be satisfied helping us plan a reception, even if it's after the fact by a few weeks."

Malinowski walked thoughtfully across the room, pondering his words, before she began to slowly nod in agreement.

"I admit it. I'm impressed," she said carefully. "City Hall and a judge's chambers. The problem is _which_ city and which judge? You can't be running out to Islip anytime soon with the Manning/Steele trial going to verdict and this triple murder case in my neck of the woods is going to get a lot of media play. No way can I slip into Manhattan during we week day right now."

"I remember the drill. You're ADA maybe running the case now, but your DA is going want you to oversee, if not present the case itself at trial," McCoy said impatiently. "If worse comes to worst we could always talk to Walter about having the ceremony over the weekend. Maybe even have him do the honors here with a few witnesses. It's the license that's going to be tough right now."

Malinowski nodded in agreement; her back to him as she looked out at the city lights that glistened as their light reflected off the still wet city streets below.

"I hate to say it Jack, but it's beginning to look like the deck is hopelessly stacked against us."

"Don't even think like that," McCoy said firmly, unwilling to admit the same thought had been in the back of his mind."How many times have we both done the impossible in a courtroom? There has to be a way for us to resolve a simple timing problem."

"Court house opens at eight, closes at four in Suffolk and New York counties," she countered glumly. "There's no way either of us can get around that. With out a license the rest of it..."

"No one said it _had_ to be a New York license," he said, more to himself than her, as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. "No one said we _had_ to do this in New York state."

"Now you've really lost me," she said, looking towards him as she tried to read his determined expression."Why would we add more time by leaving…"

Suddenly she stopped talking and Malinowski's mouth opened slightly wider. Her eyes widen as well, as she realized what her lover had in mind.

"Canada? You still have the license we got in _Canada_?"

McCoy nodded as he ran his tongue thoughtfully over his lips.

"It expires on the 21st."

Malinowski's eyes widened as the meaning his statement registered.

"The 21st? The 21st of _this_ month? So in other words, we're getting married _this_ weekend?"


End file.
